


Incompatible System

by mp3_1415player



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2020-09-06 18:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 109,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20296045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mp3_1415player/pseuds/mp3_1415player
Summary: Technological incompatibility can cause serious issues even at a simple level. When it comes to interstellar travel, those issues can be quite profound...





	1. Incompatibility Kills...

_This bizarreness is the end result of a discussion on Discord with various friends about how one could utterly break the Mass Effect universe with a fairly simple change at the right point. I did a chapter for my [random odds and sods thread](https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/the-random-fiction-bits-and-pieces.35274/), just for fun, and it was received pretty well. The idea kept nagging me so I did another chapter of it. After that I intended to get bacl to lizarding responsibly, as is my wont._  
  
_ However that little itch at the back of my mind, the one that isn't caused by the mosquito bite, kept on poking me, so I did another chapter. This makes the verbiage enough to warrant a thread of it's own, so here is that thread._  
  
_ Note that I cannot guarantee how often this will update, although I'm fairly sure it will update on occasion. But I do have two other stories in progress along with actual work-for-a-living issues, so I need to occasionally do those things as well _  
  
_ Now, note that this is once again not going to be anything like canon ME, or indeed the vast majority of fanfics based on that. I have never played the games, although I've read a fair few stories set in that universe, and have extensively read the wiki (looked at it when I needed to know something, given up, and asked someone who has played the games) so this must, obviously, be considered pretty heavily AU. But then all fics are, in one way or another, and the most interesting and entertaining ones usually take canon, crunch it up into a ball, and shoot the ball._  
  
_ Out of a cannon._  
  
_ In any case, there won't be vast amounts of pointless ground battles with every single shot fired laid out in numeric format along with the specs of all the weapons. I know some people love that sort of thing, but I find it immensely tedious even to read and it makes me almost cry thinking about writing it... If you need that, there are a lot of stories that have far more than enough of it to satisfy anyone Nor will there be, ideally, lots of stupid aliens who keep doing stupid things while stupid. That said, Turians are a thing, and the less said about Batarians the better. Even the Turians would agree about that._  
  
_ Nor is it an HFY story, as it's often put. Certainly not in the normal way. It's more of a HOFTI story if anything (Humans? Oh, fuck, they're insane!) Which is slightly ironic because for reasons that will become clear as time goes on, the humans feel exactly the same about everyone else..._  
  
_ Anyway, hopefully people will enjoy it. If not, please don't feel that you have to spend hours complaining about it, because that won't do anything except frustrate you and amuse me Best to find another story and move on, thereby saving a lot of effort all round._

* * *

**September 2058, Toronto  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of WIMP Research**  
  
“Huh. That’s… odd.”  
  
“What?” John Warden, double PhD in theoretical quantum mechanics and applied mathematics, looked up from his console, while issuing the mental command through his neurolink that made the projected screen vanish. He preferred to look at a real world screen for much of the work he did, although the mindscape version was more common. His colleague Amanda Jeffries, who had _three_ PhDs in even more esoteric fields, plus a Masters in spintronics, was staring at her own screen with a baffled look on her face.  
  
“I think we have an instrument error,” she finally said, shaking her head.  
  
He got up and walked over, stopping behind her to peer at her display. She pointed.  
  
“Huh.”  
  
“That’s what I said.”  
  
“I know.” He bent a little closer. “Scroll back to time index… minus ten?”  
  
She did so. He inspected the results, as did she, then both of them exchanged incredulous glances. “That’s impossible,” he said in a faint voice.  
  
“Completely,” she agreed. “But...”  
  
After a few more moments of bemusement, they set up to run their experiment again. The main system was still chilled down from the last run, so they didn’t have to wait to do a helium purge, which could take hours. The end result was ninety minutes later they were comparing the new data with the original set.  
  
“What the everlasting _fuck_ is going on?” John finally exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “This goes against practically everything we know.”  
  
“It’s repeatable, though. And…” Amanda was staring off into space, thinking.  
  
“And?”  
  
“And it’s not _entirely_ incompatible with supersymmetry. We’ve known since the last upgrade to the hypercollider that under the right conditions some very odd things tend to happen. Maybe this is an extended version of that...”  
  
“How do you mean?” He looked at her, intrigued. She was a world leader in spin theory, and if she said something was connected to it she was quite likely right. Ever since supersymmetry had been proven in 2032 and shown to be the lowest level of physics possible, trumping even quantum mechanics, people like them had been refining the theory and building more and more complex hardware to chase down all the possibilities of it.  
  
The new understanding of physics in the last twenty six years had already allowed fusion to finally be cracked, and led to a new paradigm in fields as diverse as computing technology through medicine to astrophysics. Even gravity was showing promising signs of being fully understood and possibly controllable. The first tentative unified field theory had been published by a European consortium only the year before and so far was standing up to scrutiny.  
  
But this… this was just _bizarre_.  
  
“Well, if these readings are right, there was a temporal and spatial displacement of our particle beam of nearly minus five femtoseconds over a small zone in the Z axis. The beam _wasn’t there_ for that distance.”  
  
“But although the temporal misalignment registered on the side detectors, the beam actually _arrived_ at exactly the right time. So if it really did go back in time, which those readings say happened, why do _these_ readings tell us it _didn’t?_”  
  
“Actually, it arrived too soon by just under half a femtosecond, based on the actual distance between the emitter and the primary target, see? The elapsed time shows superluminal travel.”  
  
He stared, did some mental math, engaged his neurolink and did them again with its aid, then finally nodded. “Which is impossible. Again.”  
  
“Ah,” she said, making another projected screen pop up to the side. “Not quite. Mind you, this is only a hypothesis at the moment, but the way I can see it working is if there really _was_ a temporal shift.” The projection filled with equations, which he followed with interest. One constant jumped out at him immediately.  
  
“Oh my _god_.”  
  
“You see?”  
  
“I do.” He stared in amazement. “And the numbers check out exactly. Holy shit.”  
  
Amanda shrugged, also looking at the screen. “We need to test it again a few times to rule out equipment error for sure, but this is incredible if it’s real. And if it isn’t, we’ve got one hell of a bizarre malfunction going on.”  
  
“OK, we need to increase the Z axis too, and see if the effect follows the change in distance. If it does, that rules out some possibilities for error.”  
  
She nodded, getting up and walking over to their enormous and very expensive experimental machine which filled the entire end of the large lab. Patting it tenderly, she smiled. “Let’s make history together, DMITR.”  
  
“You’re very weird, Amanda,” John chuckled.  
  
“Hey, humans pack bond with anything, you know that,” she grinned. “And when you’ve been working on something for nearly a decade, you get attached to it.”  
  
The Dark Matter Interaction Test Reactor merely sat there humming very, very faintly, but in John’s mind the hum was rather satisfied.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
July 2063, Toronto  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of WIMP Research**  
  
“Set up for run… one thousand four hundred and twelve.”  
  
#_Parameters set, detectors ready, charge status at 100%_# the lab AI immediately said through the neurolink. It wasn’t particularly smart if looked at from a general purpose standpoint, but it had vastly quicker reflexes than anything human could hope to manage and in its narrow field of expertise was a savant-level genius. John nodded in satisfaction and turned to Amanda, who was standing behind him along with two of the other people who had been brought into this project in the last few years. One was Doctor Philip Black, an expert in ultra-fast measurement systems and particle beam generators, while the other was Professor Jennifer Diaz, a dark energy researcher.  
  
“We’re ready. The new detector arrays are reading back in the green and the increased beam power is allowing us much finer control. Anyone want to lay a bet on the outcome?”  
  
“Not at this point,” Philip said with a small smile. “I’ve seen too many runs now. Just do it.” Jennifer and Amanda both nodded.  
  
“Get on with it, John, stop trying to add an air of mystery to the whole thing,” Amanda added with a long-suffering sigh tinged with fondness.  
  
“Hey, we’re breaking entirely new ground here, we should be taking it more seriously!” he exclaimed with a grin. “No one but me thought that putting a few Jacob’s ladders around the place was a good idea. And I want a big knife switch to throw. That’s how you’re _meant_ to do mad science.”  
  
“You… are a somewhat strange person at times, John,” Jen said with a shake of her head.  
  
“He’s seen way too many movies. Go on, start the run, before we get bored and go for lunch.”  
  
“For _Science!_” John said, poking a button on the manual override.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
“Ah.” He looked embarrassed as his colleagues exchanged looks. “That’s not switched in. Execute test.”  
  
#_Test sequence 1412 initiated,_# the AI, still nameless after the nearly six months since it had been installed a result of the increased budget their project had attracted, said in a completely calm voice. All of them were connected into it via their n-links. #_Sequence started… Power rising to firing threshold… Threshold reached, firing beam._# A muted thud came from the innards of the DMITR and they all felt a slight sensation of cold go through them, the real world fringe effects of a WIMP beam in action. Oddly enough, it was almost impossible to detect on instruments but the human neural system appeared to react to it readily, for reasons that were so far a mystery even after a decade of study. The only thing that was known for sure was that it was harmless, if disconcerting the first few times.  
  
#_Test sequence completed. Beam terminated, recoil energy reclamation at 99.689%. Temporal shift measured at expected value to the limit of detector accuracy. Accelerator at standby. Results of test are available in log file._#  
  
Issuing a mental command with the absent ease of someone who’d had an n-link since he was fourteen, John looked at the holo hanging over the console, as did the others. Graphs in various colors expanded and spun as they all examined the results of the test, with the AI filling in details on request. Nearly two hours passed, until they ended up sitting around the table staring at the final outcome.  
  
“It has to be right. All the numbers meet the theory to an accuracy that’s way past chance at this point,” Amanda said.  
  
“I’m not arguing that,” Philip replied. “I designed those detectors, and I stand by my work. But this is an incredible discovery and I want to be _certain_ we haven’t overlooked anything. There are Nobel prizes aplenty in this, after all.”  
  
He looked around at the others, who all nodded.  
  
“I agree,” Jen put in. “I’m also incredibly excited. We’ve made the single biggest breakthrough in dark matter and dark energy research in history.” She pointed at the holo in the middle of the table. “That confirms so many theories, and completely demolishes others. When this gets out, the effect is going to be...” Trailing off, she finally finished, “profound.”  
  
“And then some,” John smiled. “It closes the last questions in the GUT, in a way that no one saw coming, and the ramifications of what we’ve found… I can still hardly believe it even after nearly five years.”  
  
Amanda was inspecting the various graphs that were the outcome of over fourteen hundred increasingly complex tests on the phenomenon they’d initially stumbled across while looking for something entirely different. All of them converged towards a final set of equations that were elegantly simple and entirely non-intuitive. Sending a few commands to the AI, she waited as it ran through trillions of operations a second for nearly two minutes solid before rendering terabytes of data down to four lines of symbolic math.  
  
She cleared the display and enlarged the final product, setting it slowly spinning in characters of gold. “That, people, is going to change everything,” she said quietly and with wonder in her voice.  
  
“You know people are going to claim we’ve invented time travel or something, right?” John chuckled.  
  
“We did. Not that you can use it for that. The exclusion principle forbids interaction with anything prior to the present, and the rebound factor means you always end up back where you started from in under one hundred and fifty microseconds anyway,” she said, still watching the equations twirl. “Genuine time travel is impossible. This is better.”  
  
“Yeah, it is,” Philip nodded, also watching the display, a tiny smile on his face. “If we’re right that it can be applied macroscopically.”  
  
“The theory allows it, as far as I can see,” John said. “Mind you, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more research to work out _how_ to do it. We’re barely touching the beginning of an entire technological revolution that’s going to take years to even get properly stuck into.”  
  
“Worth it, though,” Jen smiled. “Very, very worth it.”  
  
“We need to talk to the administration, write up the initial paper on all this, get our names in the history books, then figure out how we actually use it. Funding is going to be needed. A lot of funding,” Amanda commented, lowering her eyes to the others. “This facility cost forty two million dollars and is barely enough to show the effect. It’ll take billions to turn it into something useful.”  
  
“Crass commercialism raises its ugly head over the beauty of theory, as always,” John said with a sad expression, causing her to toss a small tool at him. He ducked as he went past and grinned. “If we’re really right about this..”  
  
“I want to accept my Nobel Prize in another star system,” Jen said firmly.  
  
Amanda looked once more at the display, then blanked it. “That just might happen,” she replied with a sensation of extraordinary satisfaction in her heart.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
April 2075, Toronto  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of Superluminal Drive Technology  
Jeffries-Warden TBT Drive Control Center**  
  
#_All systems report ready, Doctor Warden. The test craft is holding at T minus ten seconds. TBT drive power is at initiation threshold. Phobos base is standing by._#  
  
“Thanks, Dmitry,” John replied to the calm voice of the AI in his head as he studied the various holo displays around the large room, and the more personal ones inside his mindscape. The two dozen people present were all doing much the same thing, although it was mostly the computers doing the actual monitoring of the experiment. He turned to the woman standing next to him.  
  
“Seventeen years to get here,” he said with a sigh. “I wondered at times if we ever would.”  
  
“I had faith in our people, John,” Amanda replied softly. “But I know what you mean.” She looked around. “If this works, the things we’re going to do over the next decades are going to change all of us beyond belief.”  
  
“Hopefully in a good way,” he muttered. “We don’t want a repeat of the Quick War.”  
  
She shook her head sadly, thinking of the way so many people had died in a few minutes of insanity nearly fifty years ago. The world was still rebuilding itself from that, and entire countries had ceased to exist in their original form. Luckily it had stopped as fast as it started due to the quick thinking and deliberate sacrifices of some very brave people. And the end result was a much more unified world that was far less tolerant of the sort of ideology that led to such things, with any luck permanently this time.  
  
“No, we don’t,” she agreed. “We came _far_ too close in thirty-four. That’s why this is so essential. We have a couple of hundred people scattered around three research posts on Mars and the Moon, and a few thousand in the orbiting habitats. That’s not enough. We need to put a lot more people in a lot more places just in case the lunatics take over the asylum again. Next time we might not be so lucky.”  
  
John nodded, then turned to the people on his other side, who had been engaged in a low conversation of their own. “Any time you want to go, Colonel,” he said to the RCSF man who represented the people who were actually flying their experimental craft, currently five hundred kilometers over their heads. “We’re ready here.”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor,” Colonel Park, who despite his name was only one eighth Korean and didn’t even look that, replied. “A moment on a par with Armstrong’s first step onto the moon, I feel.” He looked tense, but confident. Turning to the small group of people in RCSF uniforms who were monitoring their own displays, he checked they were all happy, then opened a channel to the test ship.  
  
“TBT control to _Pathfinder_. Lieutenant Williams, you have a go for drive initiation,” he said to the air, his n-link relaying the words to the distant spacecraft.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
“_TBT control to _**_Pathfinder_**_. Lieutenant Williams, you have a go for drive initiation_.”  
  
Alexis smiled broadly, feeling that she was on the precipice of a new age.  
  
Or, possibly, a horrible let down, but she was an optimist and ignored that possibility.  
  
It would work. And her name would be there alongside Gagarin and Armstrong.  
  
“Thank you, sir,” she replied. “TBT Drive initiation in ten seconds… Nine… eight...”  
  
She counted down even though the computer was keeping a much more accurate tally, and was the one which would actually fly the ship. The pilot was basically there as an observer, mostly because even now after more than a century of computer autopilots, certain quarters still didn’t want the human out of the loop. She was one of them even though it was mostly because she just enjoyed flying, especially experimental craft.  
  
It was one hell of a rush.  
  
“Three… Two… Initiate!”  
  
Her n-link was feeding her all the readings from around the small spacecraft, the data integrated so tightly into her sensorium that it was almost like she _was _the ship. She _felt_ the drive pass the threshold and generate the enormous WIMP flux, and felt it invert the resulting TBT effect to put the ship inside the field rather than outside. Even as a rush of purely mental icy cold _something_ went through her physical body, her expanded senses twitched as the entire universe seen through a wide variety of sensors… jumped.  
  
And she was somewhere else.  
  
“**Fucking hell it worked!**” she screamed in jubilation as she looked at the red planet in front of her, which certainly wasn’t the Earth.  
  
Then she frowned. “What the hell is...” she managed, staring at the pinprick of strangely iridescent blue-white light that had appeared on the surface of Mars almost directly below and ahead of her, less than a second after she’d arrived. It was growing at a ferocious rate, covering a distance that must have been measurable in dozens, if not hundreds, of kilometers in seconds.  
  
#_Massive gravitational waves detected from unknown source,_# the ship told her in tones of warning. Even as it did the craft shuddered hard. #_Inertial dampening at maximum output. Reactor at maximum output. Gravitational waves increasing in amplitude, recommend acceleration at full power to clear danger area._#  
  
The blue roiling ball of fire was now rising into the thin atmosphere of Mars, lightning flaring around the edges, in a sight that was simultaneously one of the most impressive things she’d ever seen and hands down the most terrifying. Without even consciously deciding to do so, she ramped her AG drive to maximum and lit the fusion torch, the ship accelerating at over a hundred G outwards from the planet, only the local frame of reference generated by the inertial dampener field keeping her from being pulped.  
  
“What the fuck _happened?_” she whispered to herself in shock as she fled for her life. And she desperately hoped that whatever the hell it was had been far, far away from the small Martian outpost down there, because it was blatantly obvious that whatever it was wouldn’t have been survivable for anyone in the general area. Or possibly on the same hemisphere...  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
“We got lucky, the blast was almost diametrically opposite the research station, so no one was killed,” Colonel Park said as he sat down in the conference room. It had been a very worrying two days since their first successful test of the TBT drive. Assuming that ‘_success_’ was the right word for something that _might_ have blown a hole in Mars you could park a decent sized asteroid in without it touching the sides.  
  
They were worried enough about whether it was directly connected to the drive test that no one was ready to allow the _Pathfinder_ to come back the same way. The pilot was going to have to make her way home using the conventional systems, which would take more than a week, which was only possible due to the AG drive in the first place. If they’d been doing this twenty years ago it would have taken months at a minimum. Luckily the ship was equipped for that sort of thing, as they’d planned for possible drive failure, so it was only tedious rather than life threatening.  
  
“If it wasn’t the TBT drive it was one hell of a coincidence,” Captain Jackson, one of the military technical people also present, said. “The blast happened as far as we can tell at the precise moment the ship arrived over that point on the surface. It started somewhere underground which gave it a small delay until it was visible, but Phobos Station had the entire hemisphere under camera observation to record the arrival of the ship. They correlated the visible signs of the explosion with the _Pathfinder_ arriving and seismic readings from the ground, and they all line up to within milliseconds.”  
  
“What actually _was_ it?” Amanda asked, staring at the recording that was replaying in the holo over the table. One side was a view from their experimental ship’s cameras, while the other was from Phobos Station. The bizarrely pretty blue fireball didn’t match anything she’d ever seen before. Neither did the recordings of a huge surge of gravitational interference, which every gravity detector in the solar system had measured. Even some sensitive seismometers on the _Moon_ had noticed it as the waves went through that body and made it very gently ring like a giant bell.  
  
“We have absolutely no idea, Doctor Jeffries,” he said with a shake of his head. “There was no radiation release, no neutron output, none of the signs of a fission or fusion blast. A vast amount of thermal radiation which has melted thousands of square kilometers of rock into glass, a hell of an electrical discharge that blew out half the instruments at the research station on the other side of the planet, and the gravity surge, but none of those match anything I’ve ever heard of. Not even in theory, and not even something as esoteric as antimatter. We just don’t know.”  
  
“What was the yield?” Colonel Park asked.  
  
“We’re estimating from the size of the crater a minimum energy release in the area of two hundred teratons, sir.”  
  
Everyone gaped at him.  
  
“Roughly the result of a ten kilometer iron asteroid hitting the planet dead on,” he added helpfully. “The crater is over forty kilometers across and nearly a kilometer deep. Based on measurements from the visual record, the fireball was over two hundred kilometers in diameter at maximum size.”  
  
“Jesus _Christ!_” Philip said in awed tones. “What in god’s name _did_ that?”  
  
“I have no idea, but I most definitely do not want it happening _here_,” Colonel Parks replied grimly, provoking a nod from everyone else present. “That would kill half the people on the planet.” He looked at them all. “We need to find out what did it, why, and how. And most importantly how to make sure it does _not_ happen again.”  
  
“Maybe it was an asteroid that happened to hit at exactly that same moment?” Jen mused. “No, that doesn’t make sense, the results are completely ridiculous.”  
  
“We’ll have to examine the ship when she gets back, to check the drive didn’t malfunction, but I can’t think of anything even in theory that could cause _that_,” John commented, pointing at the looping holo. He glanced around his team, all of them shaking their heads. “The exclusion principle should stop the drive interacting with anything other than the ship itself, which is inside the field. She could have aimed for the center of Mars in theory and _still_ ended up in space.”  
  
“Forgive me if I say I would rather not test that, Doctor,” Colonel Parks replied. He glanced at the holo too, then back to John. “Especially considering what actually happened.”  
  
John had to agree. “Even so, I can’t see the drive field doing it,” he insisted. “When the bounceback is completed, we get almost all the energy we put into it back, and there’s only a small WIMP flux that’s not enough to even register on the instruments.” He shrugged. “We’re missing something important.”  
  
“Indeed. And we need to work out what that is. Your drive works, but if that’s the result of using it, it’s of very limited use.” The colonel smiled a little. “We don’t have enough planets that we can afford to put enormous holes in them every time we want to go somewhere.”  
  
“I wonder if it was a weapon?” Captain Jackson suggested almost absently, showing the signs of someone using an n-link very hard. “It certainly did enough damage that it could be used as such.”  
  
“A weapon from whom?” Jen asked. “_We_ certainly haven’t got anything that could do that. Neither does the CAS, or the European Alliance, or anyone else. And it’s too damn big to use on Earth anyway, except as a doomsday device straight out of a bad novel. Like the Colonel said, it would kill half the planet with one shot. You couldn’t even test it safely...”  
  
He shrugged. “Just a thought. Maybe it was aliens?” His face showed he was joking, although he wasn’t precisely smiling.  
  
“I doubt aliens decided to bomb Mars right at the same time we tested a superluminal drive, Captain,” his superior officer commented with a wry smile. “That seems to be stretching credulity far past the breaking point. But we need to work on this before we can risk another test. I very much hope the drive wasn’t the cause, since I would like to see it developed further.”  
  
“We all would,” John said. He looked around at his group, then back to the military man. “We’d better go over the calculations again, and check all the results.”  
  
“You’ll have all the resources you require, Doctor. Keep me updated on your progress.”  
  
Colonel Parks stood, nodded to them, then left, Captain Jackson going with him after a quick wave to the rest.  
  
“God.” Philip leaned back and sighed, staring at the holo. “So close, then this happens.”  
  
“We’ll figure it out, Phil,” John assured him. “The theory works. We proved that. All we need to do is work out how to get rid of the collateral damage.”  
  
They all looked at him, then at the holo, before everyone got to work.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
October 2077, Toronto  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of Superluminal Drive Technology**  
  
“That’s what did it,” John finally said. He gestured wearily at the containment vessel in which a tiny glowing speck of something floated in an AG field. “There must have been a couple of hundred kilos of that stuff under the surface, around five hundred meters down based on the latest calculations.”  
  
“What is it?” Colonel Parks asked with great interest, peering into the container through the transparent side. Around them, a dozen scientists were working hard, the AI Dmitry helping correlate their activities, while also monitoring ongoing experiments. The department had grown enormously since the early days, now occupying a large building of its own a dozen kilometers from where they’d first found the initial signs of what turned into TBT theory.  
  
“We don’t have a full understanding of it yet, and even less idea of where it comes from, but it’s pretty much a type of dark matter that’s been bound into a form that interacts with normal matter,” John explained, looking between Parks and the other military people that had come with him. Seeing some confused expressions, he expanded on his comment. “Dark matter, and dark energy, don’t interact with normal matter and energy except through gravity. They account for the vast bulk of mass in the universe but we could only infer their existence through theory until about 2032, although it had been thought for decades before that to be the most likely explanation for a number of phenomenon astronomers had detected.”  
  
He paused while everyone thought that through, then continued when the Colonel gestured a little. “The breakthrough that led to the development of the TBT drive was a chance discovery we made while researching dark matter through the mediation of WIMPs, or Weakly Interacting Massive Particles, which had been suspected to exist for a long time. The proof of Supersymmetry and the development of the Grand Unified Theory finally led to being able to detect them, and to techniques to generate and manipulate them. That in turn led to the AG drive, the inertial compensation field, and a number of other key technologies that all rely on altering or generating gravity. Even our modern fusion reactors wouldn’t be possible without that breakthrough.”  
  
John noticed Amanda walk over and stand behind them, listening to his explanation with a slight smile, but went on with his impromptu lecture. “This material was found scattered in tiny, almost microscopic, amounts over half the surface of Mars after the _Pathfinder_ Detonation Event. It defied normal chemical analysis, and all other standard techniques, giving completely ridiculous results such as having impossible physical properties, and so on. But we finally worked out that it’s something analogous to a clathrate, only consisting of dark matter bound into a matrix with normal matter to the point that it will interact with the rest of the universe.”  
  
“What’s a clathrate?” one of the visitors asked.  
  
“It’s a chemical compound formed of one substance that makes something like a three dimensional lattice which traps another one that wouldn’t normally bond with it,” Amanda replied from behind the small group and making them all turn to look at her. “The most common form of such a thing is a clathrate hydrate, such as what’s commonly known as methane ice. It forms at low temperatures under high pressure in the presence of methane, such as under the ocean in very cold water. It used to be mined for the gas until fusion was perfected.”  
  
She waved at the container and its floating speck. “That material is in some ways similar, but it’s dark matter trapped in a lattice of modified normal matter, we suspect as the result of a very high energy event such as a supernova or something of that magnitude which occurred in a stellar zone rich in both dark matter and dark energy. Basically it’s a dark matter crystal, if you want to think of it like that.”  
  
“And we’re almost certain that what happened is that the decaying WIMP field from the TBT drive operation interacted with a cache of this stuff buried on Mars and destabilized it all at once. It reverted to its original form more or less instantly, while releasing a vast amount of heat and high energy beta radiation. The gravitational effects were caused by the enormous WIMP flux it produced and at the center of the blast probably momentarily formed an actual singularity, incredibly enough,” John carried on, making them all look back to him again. “The energy yield is off the charts terrifying, even higher than a matter-antimatter explosion. There’s some thought that it’s essentially what could have happened during the first few microseconds of the Big Bang, only thankfully on an inconceivably smaller scale. Or we wouldn’t be here.”  
  
He examined the floating little object, which was barely visible to the naked eye and only then because it was slightly glowing. “Only a small amount survived, probably because the effect was momentary and once the field decayed the remaining crystal wasn’t directly affected and only got scattered by the blast. We’ve managed to work out the possible energy yield from destabilizing microgram amounts and from that worked back from the measured blast size to arrive at a figure for the original amount. As I said it’s roughly two hundred kilograms, although there is an error of plus or minus about fifteen percent since we’re not sure it scales linearly.”  
  
He fell silent as they all exchanged glances, then examined the container again. Eventually Colonel Parks said, “You are absolutely certain that the TBT drive interacted with this… material… and that’s what caused the detonation?”  
  
“We are, yes,” John nodded. “As I said, we have a working theory that the AIs agree with, and very cautious experiments back it up.”  
  
“And there is no possibility of the drive causing similar effects if this material is not present?”  
  
“No. The WIMP field doesn’t interact with normal matter beyond gravitational effects, and those are so minor that it’s basically barely detectable in the first place.” John shook his head. “We were both spectacularly lucky and equally spectacularly unlucky to have the _Pathfinder_ arrive close enough to the location of this stuff to set it off. If it had been a thousand kilometers further away it wouldn’t have had any effect, and we might never have discovered this effect. Which could have ended very badly if anyone happened to be there when we _did_ manage to make it go bang.”  
  
“Or if a ship arrived near a larger amount,” Jen commented from the other side of the room, turning away from some tests she was working on. They all looked over at her. She shrugged. “It has to exist somewhere else, right? There’s no way we just happened to trip over the only chunk of it in the universe. It might be all over the place. Even here on Earth for all we know.”  
  
“That… does not make me feel safer,” John said slowly.  
  
“It probably _doesn’t,_ mind,” she added a moment later with a slight smile. “Or we’d most likely have noticed by now. The way it interacts with electricity would make it obvious, since one lightning strike in the wrong place and all _sorts_ of weird things would happen. Not to mention that we’re pretty sure it’s toxic, although we haven’t got enough of it to test properly yet.”  
  
Colonel Parks looked enquiringly at John, who nodded. “It seems very likely that it will interact badly with biological systems, we’re told. We know it reacts to an electrical charge with some extremely odd effects we’re still characterizing at the moment, which could take several years, but that does imply that electrical flow in the body could do much the same thing. The end results wouldn’t be pretty, even if it’s not chemically active.”  
  
“Sounds like something of a nightmare substance,” one of the other visitors said. “Is it going to cause problems for the Mars program?”  
  
“Hopefully not,” John replied, although he shrugged. “We’ve got people working on improving methods to detect and contain the stuff. Since we know it interacts with a WIMP field, there is some thought to it being possible to use a very low power one to scan for it by measuring changes in the energy flux. In theory that would let us detect it over significant distances. Possibly interplanetary ones, due to the way dark energy works. But that will take time and money to develop. With any luck by the time we need to put people anywhere near the site of the blast we’ll have been able to clean it up, and until then it’s far enough away that we can simply avoid it.”  
  
“Does it have any useful properties?” Another man asked the question, looking intrigued. “Many materials are toxic or dangerous and still very valuable.”  
  
“Some of the effects we’ve seen are interesting, but most of them we can already manage through much safer and more controllable methods,” Amanda noted, walking around to stand next to John. “Even the less likely ones are in theory achievable, with time and research. This substance is in our opinion far too dangerous and unstable to use commercially, if only due to the catastrophic interaction with WIMP fields. If the TBT drive becomes viable, which is after all what we’ve dedicated nearly twenty years to, we can’t risk using it in any way.”  
  
“Even if we can find a method to shield the drive, it’s too hazardous,” John added. “Considering that you could probably make this damn stuff destabilize from the other side of the solar system with a sufficiently strong WIMP beam. About the only thing I could see it being used for is weapons, worryingly enough. It makes a fusion bomb look like a firecracker. You’d have to be an idiot to put the stuff into use otherwise.”  
  
Colonel Parks gave him a thoughtful look, then turned his head to study the containment vessel again. After a while he turned back, although John got the feeling that he might have inadvertently done something stupid…  
  
“I would tend to agree,” the man said mildly. “Is shielding the drive from this sort of problem even possible?”  
  
“We think so, but it’s another entire branch of research that we’re certainly not going to solve overnight,” Amanda sighed. “We’ve got an entire department working on it. As Jen said, we have to assume there is more of the material around the place, and we don’t want to risk this happening again somewhere where the results would be less fortunate. We’re going to have to make sure we keep our testing of the drive to empty areas of space once we restart the program, until and unless we can work out how to either detect the substance from far enough away to avoid it, or shield the drive, or both.”  
  
“Agreed.” Colonel Parks nodded. He glanced at the people with him, then turned back to them. “I will take this to the relevant people, and I expect the program will be restarted in short order. I also believe that more funding will be put your way to allow a rapid research effort into this problem.”  
  
“That would definitely help,” John said.  
  
“We’ll be in touch, Doctors,” Parks went on. “Until then.” Having shaken their hands, the entire party left. Sitting down in the nearest chair John rested his chin on his hands and stared at the mystery substance in the containment vessel.  
  
“We need to give it a name,” Amanda remarked, leaning on the bench next to him and also looking at it.  
  
“I vote for Tiberium!” Jen called.  
  
“We are _not_ naming the most bizarre material ever discovered after something from an ancient video game, Jen,” Amanda replied calmly, causing the other woman to laugh.  
  
“Marsite?” John suggested with a grin.  
  
“Sounds like a breakfast spread.”  
  
“Bangium?”  
  
_“That’s_ just silly.”  
  
They exchanged smiles, then got back to work.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
March 2083  
South Polar Region  
Nine hundred and twenty kilometers from the Pathfinder Blast Event site.**  
  
#_More Planium readings detected fifteen kilometers due west of our current location, Mike._#  
  
“Trace amounts as usual, or something larger this time, Demi?” Mike asked wearily, leaning back in the seat of his vehicle and stretching. Even with all the comforts of home, this was a tedious job.  
  
#_Based on the readings I estimate as much as fifty grams_,# his AI replied quietly. Her voice, since he’d decided that she was female and she’d gone along with it, was pleasant and low, sounding through his n-link a lot like a teacher he’d known as a child. Once again he marveled at how rapidly AI technology was developing. When he’d left Earth fifteen years ago for the slowly expanding Martian Research Outpost, they’d been idiot savants, yet today they were as smart as humans were at a minimum. And generally easier to deal with in his experience.  
  
“Fifty _grams!?_” he exclaimed in shock, sitting upright very quickly. “Are you sure?”  
  
#_Within a very small margin of error, yes,_# she replied. He could almost swear her voice showed amusement at his reaction, no matter what he was told about AIs not having much if anything in the way of emotions.  
  
“That’s a hundred times as large as anything we’ve ever found before,” he said in wonder.  
  
#T_he latest detectors are far more sensitive and work through much deeper layers of rock,_# the AI replied. #_The readings suggest the source is buried at a depth of approximately two hundred meters. The location correlates with a small range of hills, and it’s possible it’s in a cave under them. Satellite survey results have shown many such caves in that area._#  
  
His vehicle was already heading in that direction, Mike having activated it without much thought. The idea of finding fifty grams of the incredibly rare and weird Planium, so named after the Promethei Planum area in which a much larger quantity had drastically remodeled the landscape eight years previously, was exciting. There was quite a reward for each gram of the substance, both for its value for research and for the purposes of decontaminating what would one day be another habitable planet. No one wanted that stuff lying around where it could cause future problems.  
  
They arrived in the general area within minutes, the AG vehicle easily floating over any obstructions. More readings were taken as they quartered the area, until finally he was looking out at a hole in the side of a cliff with a quizzical expression.  
  
“Demi? Is it my imagination, or is that cave… a little too perfectly rectangular?”  
  
#_I have to admit it does not appear to be natural_,# the AI replied after a moment. The pair of them scanned the entrance, which was a very obviously manufactured opening, the sides perfectly straight and flat. #_It’s large enough to drive into_.#  
  
“Well, only one way to find out, I guess,” he said as he brought the drive online again and started moving.  
  
#_We _**_could_**_ send a drone inside first,_# his synthetic companion commented mildly.  
  
“Where’s the fun in that?” he chuckled, carefully maneuvering the aircar into the hole, which it fitted fairly easily. Half a kilometer and four turns later in what was clearly an artificial structure, he stopped the vehicle dead and simply stared.  
  
There was a very long pause, then he said in a slightly strangled voice, “Demi?”  
  
#_Yes, Mike?_#  
  
“Do you think there’s a reward for finding proof of alien life?”  
  
The AI made a small sound that was perilously close to a snicker. #_I suspect that you won’t have any difficulty getting funding for your projects after this_,# she replied, as they both looked at the metal door incised with strange symbols, around which tiny lights flickered.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
June 2084  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of Superluminal Drive Technology**  
  
“The latest results from the Mars Research group have shown that this facility was a small automated outpost acting as a backup for the main one, which was in the exact center of the blast site,” Doctor Henry Chan, Xenoanthropologist, remarked as he highlighted several locations on the holo display with a series of mental commands. “The larger site was, based on the data we’ve so far downloaded and decoded, some forty times larger than the one discovered last year. We have only fragmentary data about them, or what they were doing on Mars, or indeed what happened to them, since the records have been badly degraded by both sheer time and the damage caused by the Event. It’s likely that we’ll never be able to reconstruct more than a small amount of the data, which is a great blow to science.”  
  
“Do we know how old that place is yet?” John asked.  
  
“Based on a number of dating methods, we’re estimating approximately fifty thousand years plus or minus fifteen hundred,” Doctor Chan said, popping up several tables of data. “It would appear to have been uninhabited for nearly that length of time. There are no bodies, and very little data on the people who built it. We don’t even have any pictures of them.”  
  
He flipped through a number of pages of information, until he stopped on one indecipherable set of symbols. “Their computer technology was robust to have lasted this long with any sort of integrity, but not very advanced by our standards. There is no sign of spintronics, for example. Without the aid of our AIs we’d have spent decades attempting to work out the little we have so far. However, we did make one rather unnerving discovery. As best we can determine, this document is a warning.”  
  
“Warning?” Colonel Parks asked intently. “To whom? Or about what?”  
  
“To us, we think,” Doctor Chan replied. “Or, more accurately, to anyone who discovered the remnants of that base.”  
  
“What is it warning about?”  
  
“Some great threat the aliens were very worried about,” he said. “We’re not sure yet what that was. Disease, natural disaster, enemies… It could have been any number of things. My personal view is it was some opponent of theirs based on some of the phrasing used, assuming we’ve managed to translate that part correctly. But they seem to have been running from whatever it was, which may explain why their facilities seem to have been abandoned with considerable haste.”  
  
Everyone looked at each other, then back at the holo. “That is somewhat discomfiting,” Amanda said after a few seconds. “It makes me wonder if that threat is still around.”  
  
“We have wondered the same thing,” Doctor Chan admitted with a frown. “Fifty thousand years is a lot to us, but it might not be to whatever the Promethians were.”  
  
“Promethians?” Philip asked, sounding puzzled. The other man smiled a little.  
  
“That’s what they’re being called, due to their outpost being located in the Promethei Planum area of Mars. For want of a better name, that one seems to have stuck.”  
  
“I suppose it’s as good a name as any,” Philip chuckled. After a moment he became more serious. “But you’re right, it’s not impossible that this mysterious threat could still be out there, or they could as well.”  
  
“A thought has occurred to me that I find disturbing but can’t rule out entirely,” Colonel Parks remarked, his eyes fixed on the holo. Everyone looked at him. “Is it possible that the large amount of Planium that was in their main base was actually a booby-trap intended to deal with these potential enemies of theirs, assuming Doctor Chan is right about that possibility?” He looked away from the display to cast his eyes around the conference table to each of them in turn. “It caused a vast amount of damage and utterly obliterated the entire facility. If they were expecting an invasion or attack, it would have been a good last ditch defense. If nothing else it would ensure that no trace of them was left.”  
  
“But it didn’t go off until we accidentally triggered it...” John pointed out.  
  
The colonel sighed. “I know. That part puzzles me. Perhaps they abandoned their base before they got attacked, or the attackers somehow neutralized the trap, or there was an error in the design… There are a lot of possibilities and no answers. But I can’t rule it out. As you’ve all said at one point or another, Planium is hideously dangerous in large quantities. I can’t see any good alternative reason for it to be there except for some form of weapon.”  
  
They exchanged looks again. “The man has a point,” Philip commented.  
  
“Power generation, maybe? We know it can be used for that, if you don’t mind the danger,” Amanda said tentatively.  
  
“That much of it? How much power could they need?” John responded. “Grams would be enough for most purposes. Kilograms is getting ridiculous.”  
  
They discussed the concept for some time, but were ultimately unable to come to any consensus. “We may never know,” Doctor Chan finally summed up. “But we’ve learned quite a lot, even it it isn’t as much as we’d like. And we now know for a fact that we’re not alone in the universe, which is one of the most important discoveries in history.”  
  
Everyone nodded. Then they went back to work, while thinking over the possibility that one day they might themselves meet another species out there somewhere.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
November 2087  
Institute of Advanced Physics  
Department of Superluminal Drive Technology**  
  
“It works. It bloody _works!_” John grabbed Amanda and danced around the desk with her in his arms.  
  
“Yes, it works. Let go, you lumbering idiot,” she said acerbically. He released her and grinned.  
  
“No sense of fun, some people,” he complained. “Thirty years we’ve been working together, and you still won’t dance with me.”  
  
“You have at least two left feet and outweigh me two to one, you twit,” she sighed. He merely shrugged.  
  
“But it works. The shielding actually _works_.”  
  
Her frown turned into a broad smile. “That it does. Finally. We can retrofit the Pathfinder with it within two months, then see how well it works in practice. If it does what these tests show, we could be in a position to try the first interstellar test that doesn’t end up in empty space.”  
  
“Those poor test pilots are getting bored with looking at emptiness,” John agreed. “I think they want to see another planet. I know I would in their position.”  
  
“Let’s call the relevant people and tell them the good news, then,” she smiled.  
  
Both of them looked around as the door opened to reveal Jen, who had a weird expression on her face. “The shield _works_, Jen!” John shouted in glee.  
  
“Great,” she mumbled, apparently thinking about something else. Looking at the main holo display she activated it with her n-link and projected an image onto it even as she walked into the room and closed the door. Both the others turned to look at it, slightly confused.  
  
“What’s this?” Amanda asked.  
  
“The results of the prototype Deep WIMP Array,” their colleague and friend replied. “We got all the detectors synced up last night for the first time, and ran a quick test to calibrate the system. This is the result.”  
  
They glanced at each other, then her, then went back to looking at the image.  
  
“That’s Mars,” she continued, highlighting a shadowy sphere with thousands of tiny bright points scattered all over about one quarter of it. “Planium particles all over the damn place.”  
  
“You’re picking up that much from Earth orbit?” John asked in astonishment. “Christ. That’s far more sensitive than I expected.”  
  
“It works incredibly well,” she nodded. “So far there are no other signs of it within range. With one exception.”  
  
The display changed, then zoomed in. A fuzzy dim blob appeared close to an even fuzzier one that was considerably larger. Near the middle of the first one was a bright spot.  
  
“What… is that?” John asked slowly, leaning closer to examine the display.  
  
“About sixty thousand tons of Planium,” Jen said in a low, worried voice. “Enough to destroy half the solar system. And there’s no way it’s a natural deposit, it’s way too concentrated for that.”  
  
There was silence for some time as all three of them looked at the holo.  
  
“A weapon?”  
  
“I can’t see it being anything else,” Jen replied to Amanda’s horrified expression. “What else would you need _that_ much Planium for?”  
  
“Fuck.” John shook his head. “I’ve got a very bad feeling about this. I think we need to tell someone a little higher up the food chain right now.”  
  
As he placed an n-link call to Colonel Parks, he tried not to think what would have happened if their first test flight had gone to Charon rather than Mars...  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
_Temporal Bounceback Transportation Drive System, commonly known as the 'Blink Drive'  
  
The principles behind the Jeffries-Warden TBT Drive were initially discovered almost accidentally in 2058 by Doctor Amanda Jeffries and Doctor John Warden during research into Supersymmetry and Dark Matter. It was found that under the correct conditions, a form of momentary temporal translocation could be induced in macroscopic objects. The translocation field decayed in microseconds, but while it lasted it projected the object back in time approximately 98% of the age of the universe. Due to a principle dubbed 'Conservation of Temporal Momentum' it is not possible to move an object back along the temporal axis and leave it there. It will always return to the present time plus a very small offset of some dozens of microseconds, and does not interact with anything in the process.  
  
So what use is this effect, one naturally asks?  
  
That is the key question, and the answer is of course that due to cosmological expansion, the universe at 2% or less of its current age was inconceivably smaller than it is at the current time. There is a very brief window between the 'outbound' leg of the trip and the 'inbound' leg where the object can be moved a small distance in the far past, but on its return to the present will find the distance it has covered is hugely greater. Effectively near instantaneous superluminal travel has been achieved even though at no point during the entire process has the speed of light genuinely been exceeded._  
  
_ The Blink drive opened up the universe to humanity..._  
  
_ From '**A Guide to Superluminal Travel Techniques, second edition, Ganymede Technical Publishing PLC, 2143**'_


	2. Please Dispose of Alien Superweapons Responsibly.

**June 2088, Ottawa  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Threat Identification Group**  
  
“The balance of opinion is still that the Charon Planium Mass is most likely a weapon of truly devastating power,” General Gauthier LeBatelier, Chief of the Defense Staff and the highest ranking Canadian Combined Forces officer, said as he gestured at the huge holo floating in the middle of the enormous room. Nearly two hundred people were sitting in three concentric rings around the center depressed area, all of them intently studying the image and listening without a word.  
  
This was the modern version of what had once been the UN Security Council before the destruction of New York in 2034, along with nine other conurbations in the former USA and nearly a dozen more world wide during the madness of the Quick War. Eleven minutes and nineteen seconds caused twenty-three countries, large and small, to cease to exist, created five new ones, and utterly changed the course of human history. And, of course, killed directly nearly half a billion people and indirectly twice that in the years since. Even fifty-four years later bodies were still being located and laid to rest. Many would _never_ be found.  
  
These people were the ones responsible for making sure such a thing never happened again and were extremely dedicated to that end.  
  
“The latest high resolution scans from the Deep Array fix the mass at just over sixty-one thousand two hundred and twelve metric tons of planium. It’s in a compact mass very close to the center of Charon. Our people are convinced that there is also a large amount of refined metals surrounding it, due to interference on the scan, and are attempting to design an upgrade for the Array to allow it to directly detect materials other than planium itself in quantities smaller than a moon. Early indications are that while this is most likely possible, it may well take several years at a minimum to arrive at a prototype, so for now we can’t rely on it.”  
  
He brought up a different graphic. “Further tests on the planium samples recovered from Mars after the Event have let us characterize its properties more exactly, and the more we learn about it the more worrying it becomes. The energy release from destabilization is truly enormous, far more than a matter-antimatter reaction which was once considered the highest possible due to Einstein’s equation for matter and energy equivalence.”  
  
“Excuse me, General?” the representative from the Caribbean Aligned States politely cut in, the building AI projecting a holo indicator over his head to indicate who was speaking, and simultaneously translating his words into all the languages in use completely seamlessly through their n-links. General LeBatelier turned to him and waited. “How is that possible?”  
  
“You would have to talk directly to the scientists for a full explanation, sir,” the general replied. “However as I understand it the excess energy comes from the dark matter bound into the planium. The interaction between the WIMP field and the planium somehow catalyzes a discharge of dark energy when the substance is forcibly destabilized. But that’s the limit of my understanding of that subject.”  
  
“Thank you, General. My apologies for interrupting,” the man said with a nod, sitting back and resuming listening.  
  
Turning back to the display with an acknowledging nod, LeBatelier resumed his presentation. “As I was saying, the energy release is almost unbelievably enormous. It works out to approximately three and a half exajoules per gram, or in other words somewhat more than eight hundred megatons TNT equivalent per gram of planium. The density of the material is about the same as that of aluminum so a gram is roughly a third of a cubic centimeter.”  
  
He held up a coin. “About that much. To produce an explosion that is nearly fifteen times larger than the largest fusion bomb ever detonated. The weapon that destroyed New York was less than two hundred _kilotons_ and it killed nearly a million people instantly.”  
  
Looking around at the room, he changed the holo to show a map as he went on, “If a blast that size occurred in this room, everything between Perth to the southwest and Thurso to the northeast would be totally obliterated. The fireball would rise out of the atmosphere. Everyone from Quebec city to the other side of the Great Lakes would be at risk of thermal burns.” As he spoke a simulation ran, showing an immense blue fireball rising into the sky over the 3D map of eastern Canada. “That is from _one gram of planium_.”  
  
Looking around again at the appalled faces of the TIG committee, he paused to let his words sink in.  
  
After a while, which was completely silent, he changed the display to show the Pathfinder Event recording, something everyone in the room was very familiar with, as was pretty much everyone on the planet at this point. “The PDE was the result of approximately a hundred and ninety-four kilograms of planium detonated. If that happened here… Well, we’d lose the entire hemisphere for sure. Projections are that the end result would be the nuclear winter to end all nuclear winters, probably a new ice age, and the loss of upwards of ninety percent of all life on the planet, within fifty years.”  
  
No one said a word, but they were listening very carefully indeed.  
  
“The scientists tell me that the yield is almost constant, although it goes up by approximately two percent between microgram amounts and low gram quantities, then settles down to a linear progression. So it’s easy to extrapolate from what we’ve seen to what would happen if the Charon Mass was triggered. To a very rough approximation it’s more than fifty one _million_ teratons.”  
  
The silence in the room was deafening, as everyone present consulted their n-links for what that really meant and felt faint. He carried on regardless.  
  
“Nearly one percent of the gravitational binding energy of our planet. Twelve hours worth of the _entire_ output of the sun. It would utterly annihilate the Earth's biosphere if it detonated anywhere with several AU. And that’s just from the thermal and electrical energy release,” the general said in low but audible tones.  
  
“The even _more_ dangerous aspect are the gravitational waves it produces as it destabilizes. The PDE caused gravity ripples that were detectable by the probes around Saturn. The Charon Mass would, assuming the scientists are right again, cause so much gravitational disturbance that Charon itself would probably collapse into a singularity, which is a problem all on its own due to the astronomical amount of Hawking radiation that would be emitted in the process. They’re fairly certain that it would also trigger massive solar flares when the waves reached the sun, which would devastate the inner system, and quite possibly cause the orbits of even the outer planets to radically change.”  
  
When he stopped talking everyone simply looked at him for nearly thirty seconds, until the Prime Minister of Canada cleared her throat. “So what you are telling us is that if it _is_ a weapon it is one designed to destroy entire stellar systems, General?”  
  
“That does appear to be the consensus among the scientific and military advisers, Ma’am,” he replied with a nod. “It’s not a star killer, but it’s more than enough to cause so much damage to a star system that it would render it uninhabitable for centuries. And most likely kill almost everyone in it even from that distance, unless they were shielded by the star. We believe that, assuming that the detection of a metallic structure around the planium mass is real, that this is probably some form of delivery system intended to transport it deeper into the system if it was activated, to cause the maximum amount of damage.” He changed the display back to the original one showing the ghostly image of Charon with the bright spot in the middle.  
  
“It’s clearly in our opinion almost certainly a doomsday weapon, or terror weapon of some sort. You don’t need something even vaguely close to that size for any normal military purpose. The only reason to have a warhead that big is to kill an entire world, and there are very few reasons we can plausibly consider that would make that an option. That device is a species killer. We assume it to be the work of the threat the Promethians were worried about, and quite likely those behind this thing are what they were running from. And in all probability were destroyed by.”  
  
“A planet killing missile hidden _inside_ a dwarf planet on the edge of the solar system,” the Prime Minister muttered. “It sounds like something from a holonovel.”  
  
“Unfortunately it is very real and very dangerous, ma’am,” he said with a sigh.  
  
"If it _is_ a weapon, General, whose is it? You say that the assumption is that it is the work of whoever the Promethians were running from, but considering that the technology is apparently the same as that of the Promethian base on Mars, isn't it possible it was actually made _by_ them instead of aimed _at_ them?"  
  
LeBatelier looked over at the other side of the inner ring of seats to the woman who had spoken, the Minister of Science for the European Alliance.  
  
"We considered that, of course. It can't be ruled out, I admit. We are fairly certain that they never came back, and our conclusion is that this is probably because they _couldn't_ come back. Possibly due to being rendered extinct, or maybe just chased out far enough that they abandoned our system entirely and for good. But it is within the realms of possibility that they set up a trap for their attackers using Charon as a phenomenally large land mine equivalent that would be detonated if their attackers returned looking for them, then made sure to hide somewhere else. If that's the case, presumably the second alien force never _did _return, which is the only reason we're still here in the first place."  
  
He shrugged. "We may well never know one way or the other. Most of our analysts consider the Charon Mass to be more likely to be the work of the attackers than the attacked, if only because of the enormous disparity between the sizes of the two planium deposits and the complexity of an operation to embed it at the center of Charon itself, then erase all traces of its presence. Without the Deep Array we'd most likely never have found it. It is very well disguised in an unlikely spot for anyone to simply stumble across it."  
  
"The similarity in technology is easily explainable as a common technical base," she mused out loud. "After all, everyone on Earth knows how to make nuclear weapons and that knowledge spread in only a few years at most."  
  
"Exactly." He nodded.  
  
“Could it be something other than a weapon, in your opinion?”  
  
“It’s certainly not impossible, Ma’am,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “And I would like to believe that. Unfortunately I find that difficult, as does everyone else who’s working on the problem. Planium is far too dangerous to use for almost any possible use we can come up with so far. Yes, it can be used as a very potent source of energy with minimal effort, but the potential for catastrophe is so high no one thinks any sensible intelligence would ever risk it. It has some interesting properties that could make a variant of antigravity very simple to arrange, but WIMP technology allows us to do the same thing without too much effort and far more controllably, to say nothing of being vastly safer. _Our_ AG systems, if they fail, don’t destroy entire countries.”  
  
“I understand the researchers have discovered it can be used to reduce effective mass, or indeed increase it,” she said after thinking over his words. He nodded. “Surely that has important applications?”  
  
“Undoubtedly, but again that can be achieved through much safer methods, I’m assured by our research experts. The studies of microgram amounts of planium are quite rapidly synergizing with existing WIMP theory to allow us to duplicate essentially any property it has, _without_ risking the lives of millions of people. And no one can see, even if you were going to use planium for that mass altering effect for some reason, what you would need over _sixty-one kilotons_ of the stuff for. It’s a quantity so appallingly and insanely large that an enormously powerful weapon is still by far the most likely and plausible scenario, as worrying as that is.”  
  
"And what about the chance that our mysterious aliens may have known about the uses of planium but not had WIMP technology, so never realized how dangerous it really is?"  
  
He sighed a little. "We have discussed that as well. Yes, it's possible, but a lot of it hinges on whether planium occurs naturally or not. And if it does, how common it is, how much or little is found in any one place, and a host of other parameters. If it's like uranium ore, for example, it would take a significant effort to refine it to the point it could be utilized, at great cost and risk due to the toxicity, but it could be done by a fairly primitive technological civilization who were sufficiently determined. We managed to build atomic weapons in an era of vacuum tubes and piston engines, after all. But we're fairly confident that the study of it would inevitably sooner or later lead to the discovery of WIMP theory, as the study of radioactivity led to theories such as relativity and quantum mechanics. The big problem with that of course is if it did, there's a better than decent chance that the first thing they'd manage to do is destroy themselves when they tested some form of WIMP flux generator and it interacted badly with any planium they had in range."  
  
"Which clearly neither of these alien species did or they wouldn't have visited us," she said with an understanding look.  
  
"Precisely. If they'd chanced across planium and its uses, we can't see how they wouldn't have studied it properly. Which would end in disaster unless they got incredibly lucky." He looked around at the others for a moment then focused back on her. "At the other end of the scale, if they came up with a working WIMP theory and the technology it leads to like we did, they could have discovered the danger without destroying themselves, possibly by triggering a naturally occurring formation of planium. If it _does_ form naturally. And if it _doesn't_, it's in theory possible to make it. Opinion is divided on how likely it is that it's something that is a natural material or a synthetic one. We won't know until and unless we happen to find some lying around out there. All we currently know is that the only two sources of it in the solar system were brought here by outsiders, and could well have been used in warfare, which does somewhat point to the second possibility rather than the first."  
  
She nodded thoughtfully when he finished.  
  
“Thank you, General. I will admit I was doubtful to begin with, but I can’t deny that you put a compelling case before us.”  
  
“I would very much like to be mistaken,” he responded with a shake of his head. “We all would. The implications of a planium bomb big enough to kill the entire solar system orbiting around Pluto for who knows how long is terrifying. But in my opinion we have to proceed on the basis that the most likely application for the device is exactly what we suspect it is. Even _if _it is not actually a weapon, it's still phenomenally dangerous and we need to deal with it one way or another. The risk to everything is far too high to allow it to remain where it is."  
  
“So in the end it can be summed up as a peaceful use is possible but unlikely, while a military use is all too plausible,” the Prime Minister commented sadly.  
  
“Quite. For weapons you actively want dangerous and unstable materials,” he nodded. “It’s stable enough to be handled in large quantities provided you are correctly shielded from the toxic effects, but sufficiently simple to detonate that it’s easy to use in a warhead. We already have several teams who have sketched out designs for such weapons, should we ever need them. It’s almost too simple for my peace of mind, in fact. Much simpler than successfully producing a fusion warhead and with no accompanying radiation.”  
  
Once again, there was silence, before several people began talking at once.  
  
#Order, please!# Athena, the IGCC AI said in their heads in clear tones. #Please settle down and allow the general to continue his presentation. Questions can be asked one at a time.#  
  
“Thank you, Athena,” the Prime Minister said. “Calm down, people.” She glared at the South American League’s Premier, who was standing and had his hand outstretched. “Sit down, Carlos.”  
  
The man looked mildly embarrassed, glancing at his neighbors, then in the face of her expression subsided into his seat. “Carry on, General. I must admit I share the disquiet at hearing about weapons research using planium. We all remember what happened in thirty-four and the idea that such a thing could recur with weapons even more devastating than fusion bombs is not a comforting one...”  
  
“As you say, Ma’am, no one wants a repeat of the Mad Years,” he replied when she fell silent. “The entire point of my job, and that of everyone present, is to make sure that never happens. But the issue is that there is, or at least _was_, someone or something out there that appears to have mined our outermost planet and almost certainly killed an entire species of aliens. We have to assume that they still may be out there, or someone else with a similar goal. Researching methods to defend ourselves is entirely sensible and falls within the authority given to me and my people.”  
  
“Are you seriously saying that you’re worried we might get attacked by extraterrestrials?” the EA science minister asked slightly incredulously.  
  
“I’m not dismissing it as a possibility,” he replied, turning to her. “We know for a fact that at least one other intelligent species existed, only fifty thousand years ago at most. As I said there is strong evidence to the effect that another species attacked them, and quite possibly killed them off, since they don’t seem to have come back since abandoning their bases on Mars. There are a hundred and fifty billion stars in our galaxy alone at a _minimum_ and the chances that only two or three of them produced intelligent life seems minuscule, not to mention the fact that there are billions upon billions of other galaxies in the universe. We _know_ we’re not alone, and we know that at least some of our neighbors were both aggressive and highly dangerous.”  
  
Casting his gaze around the room as he dismissed the floating holo, he resumed talking after a short pause in which no one appeared to dare replying. “The TBT drive allows transport to the other side of the galaxy as easily as from Earth to Mars. We could get visitors from almost literally anywhere. Even from Andromeda, if it comes to that. Sure, we’re one star out of billions and the odds are very low of someone accidentally stumbling over us, but on the other hand we also have irrefutable proof that it’s happened at least _twice_ in only fifty thousand years. That does somewhat imply that it could be a regular event.”  
  
Waving a hand at the ceiling and implying the universe, he added, “Hell, for all we know there’s an entire galactic civilization out there with thousand of species running around all over the place, just like out of an SF book. If someone comes here looking for their ancient superweapon, or just to say hello, I would be remiss in my duties not to have at least considered the possibility they’d turn out to be hostile and to take preventative steps.”  
  
“As much as I’d like to deny it, you make a worrying amount of sense,” the EA woman finally responded.  
  
“I don’t like it either, Ma’am,” he said. “I didn’t end up in this position because I _want_ to kill people, even aliens. But my job is to consider the unthinkable and prepare for the worst, even while hoping for the best.”  
  
“Well said, General,” the Canadian PM nodded. “I think we can all agree on that. I also think that we can all agree that we need to make sure that no planium is allowed to fall into the hands of people irresponsible enough to do something unfortunate with it.”  
  
“I can see no good reason to allow it on the planet at all,” the SAL premier remarked, with a look around. Quite a few people nodded in agreement. “Even tiny amounts could kill millions. We need to regulate the material as carefully as we control fissionables and biotoxins. There is essentially no peaceful use for it, it doesn’t occur naturally in the entire solar system as far as the scan data shows, so we should arrange to make sure that it is all collected from Mars and stored safely somewhere a great distance from inhabited areas.”  
  
“There have been plans for some years to establish a research outpost on Ceres,” someone else pointed out. “With the TBT drive, accessing almost anywhere in the solar system becomes a trivial matter. Perhaps we should press ahead with those plans, suitably modified to allow research into planium far enough away from places we value to make sure an accident doesn’t cause too much damage.”  
  
“The WIMP flux shielding technology is proving successful,” General LeBatelier noted. “Although it still needs refinement before anyone would want to risk transporting planium _inside_ a TBT ship. The scientists are sure it’s no longer a risk for detonating it at range, though.”  
  
“That’s simple enough, we just transport the stuff with normal non-superluminal craft from Mars,” the EA minister said. “The latest ships can do that in under two weeks worst case. Once the planium is safely stored, personnel and equipment can be transported via TBT drive. We could have a base up and running in less than five years.”  
  
There was general agreement on that idea. After discussing it for a while longer, Athena called for a vote, and the resolution was unanimously passed.  
  
“The Martian planium is one thing, but what _do _we do about Charon?” the CAS representative queried when they’d returned from a short recess. “Clearly we cannot allow it to loom over us like the Sword of Damocles indefinitely. The risk of accidentally detonating it is tiny but not zero, even if we assume the original builders never return.”  
  
“We are still working on that, sir,” LeBatelier sighed. “And believe me, I’ve lost a lot of sleep over it in the last year. So far we don’t have a good solution, but we’ll find one eventually. Until then, we can only keep our distance to minimize risk and keep working.”  
  
Not one of them was happy about that, but no one could come up with an alternative, not even Athena when asked. So in the end they tabled that for another day and went on with the rest of their work, uncomfortably aware of the distant yet far too close threat that had probably been there for most of human history.  
  
Not that this made it any easier to consider...  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
October 2095  
Ceres Secure Research Facility  
Designated TBT Minimum Range Perimeter**  
  
#Ceres flight control has cleared us for approach, Alex,# the voice of her ship whispered in her mind.  
  
Captain Williams, former test pilot on the Pathfinder program and the first human to travel faster than light, nodded. “Thanks, Hermes.” She turned around and looked at the people in the rear of the fast courier she was in charge of. It wasn’t as glamorous as testing the very first superluminal ship, but it was an excellent posting and she loved it. She could and did go anywhere in the system, and at times as far as the Oort cloud, where a number of observation bases were being established. The only place absolutely forbidden to any blink drive ship was the zone ten AU in radius centered on Pluto, which was enforced rigorously by AIs and military forces. Not that anyone was stupid enough to even risk it.  
  
Humans were many things, but globally suicidal wasn’t one of them. They’d learned their lesson at last. And their AI companions made sure they didn’t forget why.  
  
The new Ceres research center had a much, much smaller forbidden zone, but it was still seriously maintained. While it was very unlikely verging on impossible for a shielded blink drive to destabilize planium even at point blank range these days, no one wanted to be the first to test it, so they made sure they always shut the drive down a million kilometers away out of an abundance of caution. In time that would probably be found to be unnecessary but right now both she and Hermes completely agreed with it.  
  
‘_I can’t believe how fast life has changed_,’ she thought as she examined her passengers. Two of them were famous, since they were the pair that had made the initial discovery that had led to this point, over three and a half decades ago. Both Doctor Warden and Doctor Jeffries were well past seventy now but these days that was at worst early middle age, what with the way medical technology was improving now AIs were helping out. As in almost every field, their synthetic friends were rapidly changing things at a rate that was almost dizzying.  
  
The future had arrived very suddenly, and humanity was still getting to grips with it. Enjoying the hell out of it for the most part, but with a slightly puzzled look at the same time…  
  
“It’ll take about thirty minutes from here before we can dock,” she said after that moment of introspection, even as at the back of her mind she kept track of the ship accelerating on AG and fusion drive. Inside the vessel nothing could be felt other than a subliminal vibration conducted through the structure. It was a far cry from her very first trip into space twenty five years ago.  
  
Doctor Warden smiled. “I still find it amusing that we can, in theory, go anywhere within hundreds of thousands of light years in microseconds, but we end up riding a rocket for the last part of the trip,” he remarked with good natured approval.  
  
Doctor Jeffries laughed. “One way or another we’re likely to always find the first and last few kilometers take almost all the time,” she replied to him, as the other four people in the ship listened. “We can’t jump into atmosphere, for a start, so we need to use AG drives for that part.”  
  
“I have a few ideas about that,” Doctor Warden said mysteriously. “But that can wait.”  
  
“Do you really think your people have worked out a solution to the Charon Weapon?” Alex asked after a second or two. It was something she’d wondered about ever since she’d first heard the rumors from friends in the scientific arm of the RCSF a couple of months ago.  
  
“We have a number of plausible concepts to work out the final details on,” Jeffries replied, turning to look at her. Doctor Warden relaxed and let her speak, while his other three companions, all scientists from various IAP research departments, listened as well. Two of them were women, one in her twenties and one about ten years older, and the man was about forty.  
  
“How can you deal with _that_ much planium?” Alex knew very well how elaborate the precautions on the Ceres base were and it only had under eighty grams of the ghastly substance, the end result of decontaminating Mars as well as could be arranged. Even with the latest scanning technology it had been a vast effort that was still ongoing. Suggestions from exasperated technicians that they simply fly an unshielded drive close enough to set the remaining planium off had been firmly rejected as far too destructive, so they had no choice but to do it the hard way. Hundreds of people and AI command remote drones had been crisscrossing the red planet for years. “We can’t possibly risk destabilizing it.”  
  
“No, we can’t,” Jeffries agreed. “And we can’t reasonably cut open Charon to get at it and possibly break it up into smaller pieces to deal with it that way. Everyone suspects it’s most likely booby trapped as a security measure, since that would be the logical thing to do. So we’re going to move it.”  
  
“Move… it?” This puzzled Alex. If they couldn’t get at it, how could they…  
  
#I believe Doctor Jeffries is referring to moving _Charon_, not the _warhead_,# Hermes, who was a constant presence in her mind through her n-link, said with a note of amusement. Alex gaped as Jeffries nodded, smiling a little.  
  
“You’re going to move a moon twelve hundred kilometers in diameter,” she said flatly.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“_How?!_”  
  
“There are several ways that were discussed,” Doctor Jeffries replied. “One was to install some very large AG systems on it along with a series of massive fusion torches, using the moon itself for fuel. It would then need the drives fired in a sequence synchronized to Charon’s orbit of Pluto to gradually raise it, like they used to do with satellites and probes. Pluto’s gravity would help with that. It’s slow but it would work.”  
  
“The problem is that we’re none to certain that a sufficiently strong AG field to allow something as large as Charon to be moved in a reasonable time wouldn’t interact with the planium, since we’re not sure if it gets more sensitive as the amount increases,” Doctor Warden put in. “In theory we can shield that, but the risk is far too high if we’re wrong.”  
  
Alex was staring at them, still stunned by the idea of just moving an entire moon out of the system. It seemed ridiculous.  
  
On the other hand she was in a spacecraft heading towards Ceres at enormous speed while being piloted by an AI that was linked to her brain, so ridiculous wasn’t quite as simple as it used to be…  
  
“Someone suggested putting a very large TBT drive on it and just jumping it out of the galaxy,” Doctor Warden added with a grin, which made her mouth drop open. “Again, in theory a drive that big is fairly feasible. Bigger, even. On the other hand we’re back to it going off pop if we make a mistake, and we don’t know if it would do it before it left or afterwards. If we were certain it would be afterwards, it would be a good plan, but as it is it’s too dangerous.”  
  
“The current plan is something of a wildcard, since we haven’t tried it before, but the calculations show it should be possible,” his colleague resumed when Alex managed to collect herself. Even Hermes seemed surprised by the last suggestion as far as she could tell from her link to him. “It’s more or less an inversion of the AG concept. We’ve never had reason to do it, but it’s eminently possible to use gravity generator to produce a very large _positive_ gravity field rather than a gravity-_nullifying_ one. It’s an extension of the inertial compensator in most respects, only vastly more powerful.”  
  
“So… you make a giant gravity field, which gives you...” Alex thought it through, then suddenly got it. “Oh. That’s brilliant. You generate an enormous gravity field which makes an artificial gravity well. The entire moon moves towards it!”  
  
“Essentially, yes,” Doctor Jeffries nodded. “We should, in theory, be able to generate a field large enough to warp the space near the moon in such a way that it ‘falls downhill’ into it. We _pull_ it out of orbit, not _push_ it. The beauty of that idea is that the WIMP flux of the gravity generator falls off much faster than the gravity gradient itself does. So we can ensure that even if the shielding doesn’t work as well as it should, it’s far enough away that it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“And we then just move the generated field steadily away as Charon speeds up and we should be able to gently pull it out of the system.” Doctor Warden looked pleased. “It’ll take some time, although less than we first expected when we came up with the idea, but we can get it up to a respectable speed in a few months or so. When it’s safely clear of the Oort cloud we can send some probes down to study it if we want, although a number of people are pushing for simply deliberately detonating it to make sure it’s gone once and for all. I’m a little hesitant over that since we’ll lose any real data on the damn thing, but I can’t deny I’d feel better if it was no longer there.”  
  
Alex nodded, understanding completely. Everyone who thought about the Charon Mass wanted it gone.  
  
“So you’re out here doing tests?” she asked.  
  
“That’s the idea.” He indicated the others. “Sandra is a gravity generator expert, Habib is our power systems engineer, and Sabine knows as much about WIMP shielding and associated technology as anyone I know. Best student I ever had.”  
  
The younger woman looked mildly embarrassed but pleased at the praise.  
  
“We’re going to test it on a small scale to begin with, using some of the asteroids as targets, loaded with small quantities of planium as a definite indicator of shielding issues,” Sandra said. “Since it’ll be pretty obvious if something goes wrong.”  
  
Thinking back to twenty years ago, Alex couldn’t help but agree. She still saw that blue fireball in her nightmares sometimes.  
  
“I hope it works,” she finally remarked, turning back to the console to double-check the physical indicators in a habit she’d never been able to break. “Sooner that bloody thing is gone the happier everyone will be.”  
  
Even Hermes made a sound of agreement.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
January 2103  
Oort Cloud, 231 AU From Sol  
Onboard Charon Mass Disposal Ship _Gatekeeper_**  
  
#We have reached the calculated safe distance. Ready to fire.#  
  
“Stand by.” Captain Roberts looked around the bridge of his ship, which was one of the largest so far built. The size of an old fashioned wet navy destroyer it had a complement of close to two hundred people, half of them scientists and the remainder crew. “Do we have final authorization?”  
  
“You do, Captain. Proceed at your discretion.” General LeBatelier stood to the side at parade rest, his hands behind his back, watching calmly.  
  
“Thank you, sir. Mackenzie, fire the WIMP beam torpedo, then jump us back to Pluto orbit as soon as you confirm detonation.”  
  
#Yes, Captain. Torpedo accelerator online, target locked, distance ten AU. Threshold crossed, torpedo outbound blink completed, return blink completed… Detonation is confirmed.# The view in their n-links from the external cameras jumped and they were two hundred astronomical units away in microseconds.  
  
“That was a slight anticlimax,” Captain Roberts commented mildly. “We won’t see the results for more than twenty seven hours.”  
  
“I for one am perfectly happy to wait,” LeBatelier grunted, stretching a little. “I’d have been even happier to get that damn thing even further away, but everyone was starting to get restless about it. It’s far enough outsystem that all we’ll get is some gravity turbulence for a few hours and a nice light show, so that’s good enough for me. At least it’s gone now.”  
  
“And we can stop worrying about alien super-weapons and start the real work,” Roberts chuckled.  
  
“Until we find another one,” the general sighed. “Where there’s one, there may be more. But we will deal with that if and when it happens.”  
  
“Would you like to join me for a meal?” Captain Roberts offered. “We’ve got some superb synth-steak in the galley.”  
  
“Sounds like a good idea, Captain,” LeBatelier smiled. “Lead on.”  
  
Both men left the bridge, the AI Mackenzie transferring command to himself as they did. While he waited for the pretty blue lights he pondered what the next years would bring with great interest.  
  
Life, even for an AI, was very interesting these days, he decided.  
  
Humans were great fun.


	3. One... Two... Many!

**March 2109  
Interstellar Survey Headquarters  
Luna Prime Base**  
  
#The probe fleet reports another planium detection, John. The largest one yet by a huge margin.#  
  
John Anderson, director of the IS, nodded absently as he went over the report that the AI Minerva had uploaded to his n-link even as she spoke. “Vastly more than we’ve found in any other location so far,” he commented, looking at the star map in his mindscape as he rotated it and zoomed in with instinctive mental operations. The map showed every star out to two hundred and fifty light years along with data on each one where available, including information on the ones that had so far been scanned in detail, which covered a much, much smaller volume.  
  
Since there were at least a quarter of a million visible stars inside that spherical area, and possible at least as many again brown dwarfs, they hadn’t yet visited even a fraction of one percent of them in the five years the program had been running. The number of probe ships was steadily increasing though, the construction facility at the L4 point expanding rapidly and turning out craft at a very respectable rate. Mining operations in the asteroid belt in the last twenty years since the beginning of that part of humanity’s expansion into space had completely removed any problems of material availability, which wasn’t even taking into account the ease of bringing things from almost anywhere in the galaxy that was allowed by the blink drive.  
  
Ships were being made by the thousands now, much like large trucks had been back in the fossil fuel era, and were becoming nearly as common and matter of fact. Space travel had gone from a purely research function in the late twentieth century through an expensive luxury in the mid twenty first, to something that these days was almost considered routine. To anyone under the age of forty, it was seen as entirely natural.  
  
The simplicity of the blink drive itself once the basic operational theory was understood had made all the difference. Yes, it was a fearsomely complex machine in some ways, and required a very high level of technology, but as it was today it was not really much different from making a cutting edge internal combustion engine back in 2020 or so relative to the tech level then.  
  
Admittedly one needed to understand WIMP theory to a fairly impressive level to know _how_ it worked, but actually making one didn’t need a doctorate in the field. Merely a good education and a decent level of intelligence, which these days was basically everyone. Modern medical techniques, the omnipresence of n-links and AI, technology based on spintronics, and all the other things that had come about after the mad years, had changed everything to the point that someone from the beginning of the last century probably wouldn’t recognize it.  
  
He was pretty sure that in another fifty years at most there would be humans of one sort or another all through the solar system and beyond. Already there were plans afoot for setting up colonies on the two potentially habitable planets that had been found around Alpha Centauri B, which had been the obvious first place to look once the interstellar program restarted after the Charon Mass had been rendered safe. And in that first year, people had jumped around all over the place almost randomly while the drive was tested properly, meaning that there were reams of information on widely scattered star systems across half the galaxy and even a couple in Andromeda when one test pilot got carried away with enthusiasm.  
  
Fairly quickly the IGCC had called a halt to ad-hoc exploration, mainly due to a worry about accidentally triggering another planium weapon. Everyone was sure that the Promethians, or their enemies, would have left traces somewhere else other than the Sol system, and even with the latest shielding being considered about as close to perfect as possible, there was always the chance of an accident. The IS had been set up in late 2104 and exploration of new systems handed over to it, along with a list of standard protocols for discovery of planium weapons or deposits, contact with aliens, hostile or otherwise, and the location of habitable worlds.  
  
People were fairly certain that sooner or later humanity would encounter another alien species, considering that at least two different ones had visited their home system in the reasonably recent past. But no one knew how long it would be until that happened, or what those aliens would be like. It might happen next week, it might take centuries, but it _would_ happen eventually and they wanted to be prepared.  
  
They also wanted to be absolutely sure that no planium was present in any system marked for eventual settlement. Every system surveyed was first scanned _very_ thoroughly with sacrificial drones for the presence of the hellish material. The decision had been taken very early on that the presence of the substance in a system, unless there was something else there that made it of significant interest, would be sufficient cause to mark it as unsuitable and move on. If there _was_ good reason to further study such a star system a decontamination operation would be put into action to remove all traces of the material.  
  
Extremely cautious testing had shown that the latest shielding technology allowed planium to be transported by blink drive, although no one wanted to be on board a ship at the same time so the process would always be automated. Not even the AIs fancied the risk, which mildly amused John. So as and when planium was found, it would be transported to a safe place outside the galaxy where it wouldn’t be a problem. It could be studied there safely without risk to anyone, even if something catastrophic happened.  
  
The end result of the Charon Mass destruction had produced a small black hole and an amazing display of light when it finally became visible to the inner system, easily viewable in daylight on Earth for several hours. No one wanted that sort of thing happening anywhere _near_ an inhabited world. The research ship that was still studying the Charon Singularity was also towing it away on a course that was projected to eventually end up in intergalactic space. They had it up to nearly ten percent of _c_ by this point. When they’d learned everything of interest from it, the thing would be abandoned to the depths of space, although it’s course would be logged so everyone could avoid it.  
  
The plan was that the next weapon found would be just moved intact so it could be properly researched by remote, somewhere where a suddenly forming singularity along with a small nova-equivalent wouldn’t bother anyone. No one doubted that eventually one would turn up, since it seemed immensely unlikely that the one hidden inside Charon was the only one in existence. Where there was one of something there was quite likely more of them, after all.  
  
Up until now, only small traces of planium had been found in widely scattered systems out to about thirty light years, and in one that was visited before the IS was set up, some two thousand light years closer to the galactic core. All of those traces suggested they were the result of some form of combat operation, being tiny amounts widely scattered across large areas of a planet, or in a couple of cases throughout an asteroid belt. The patterns bore an unnerving similarity to the result of the Mars PDE, which reinforced the thought that there had been some form of interstellar war fought with planium weapons. Considering no other traces of either side had yet come to light, this might well mean that both were now extinct. On the other hand, one or other side might still be out there licking their wounds and waiting...  
  
The systematic search that had been going on for the last half decade had been expected to find more and more evidence of past battles, and looking at the data that had just arrived by courier drone, it has just managed to achieve that.  
  
#Yes, the scans show it is in the same configuration as the Charon Mass was. Approximately sixty one kilotons of planium in a compact mass, inside a clearly artificial structure that’s concealed inside a small moon on the outer edge of the system. It bears striking similarities to Charon in most respects.# Minerva sounded thoughtful, as she brought up various data in his shared inner view. #Someone didn’t want this device to be found, obviously. The probe can detect no visible signs of manipulation of the surface of the moon, which as in the case of Charon either requires the mass to have been placed inside sufficiently long ago to have allowed normal micro-meteor bombardment and tidal stresses to have erased it, or shows that someone went to great effort to cover up the traces they left.#  
  
“I certainly can’t see any other plausible way it could end up there, I agree,” he said. “And hiding something that dangerous in such a manner still looks more likely to be for nefarious purposes than otherwise. We won’t know until we can get at one safely and study it. And possibly not even then...”  
  
#The deep scans show that the material surrounding the planium is an alloy of titanium, iridium, and silicon, with considerable quantities of a number of transuranic elements present. It’s not one we’ve encountered before, or considered, and is definitely the product of a very advanced technology. Additionally there are signs of what appears to be an artificially modified strong nuclear force which would significantly enhance the material’s physical properties.#  
  
“I recall reading about some research into that recently,” he remarked, thinking back to a report from the IAP, which over the years had become the most advanced scientific institution on the planet. Not that it was entirely on the planet these days, considering how large the Ceres Secure Research Facility was becoming. The place was basically an extension of the IAP now. “It’s being studied for improving the strength of spacecraft hulls.”  
  
#Yes, the research is very promising,# the AI replied, sounding pleased. #If the current development path pans out as it is suspected it will, we could be deploying it in under ten years.# She paused, then went on, #However, it is more evidence that the builders of these devices were at or beyond our current technological level. Presumably beyond that of the Promethians as well, since we know that that species didn’t appear to use spintronics. Although admittedly it’s possible that they deliberately omitted that technology in the Mars outposts. However, in any case I would expect that study of the device could yield important breakthroughs in a number of fields.#  
  
“And enough planium to kill a system,” he grumbled. “We’ll need to get rid of that. Hopefully we can extract it without setting it off or destroying the remainder of the machine. If it’s booby-trapped, that might be difficult...”  
  
#I suggest that standing a very long way away and using remote systems is probably a sensible precaution,# she said with dry wit. He chuckled at the comment. Minerva had a cutting sense of humor at times.  
  
“That crossed my mind,” he smiled. “I hope that the latest research into real time superluminal comms bears fruit. It would help a lot with this sort of thing. The ping-pong comm system is a little too high-latency for real time control if you want high precision.”  
  
#I believe the initial work is promising, but it’s another field where only time will tell,# she said. #We need to contact the IGCC about this discovery.#  
  
“We do.”  
  
The IGCC now included almost every government on Earth other than the insular Empire of Texas, which tended to keep to itself and just utter threats on occasion, and a couple of places in United Africa who had not yet made up their minds yet. It was pretty much a de facto planetary government even now and it was expected that within twenty or thirty years at the outside would become that in reality, uniting the planet fully for the first time in history. Evidence of potentially hostile aliens had helped a lot with making that possible, effectively completing what the Quick War had begun so horribly eighty years ago. He reported directly to them, and it was the IGCC’s military research arm that would decide what to do about this new problem and how.  
  
In all truth he was glad of that. He and his people had their work cut out for them just finding things. What was _done_ with those things later was someone else’s job. The IS was an exploratory group, not a military one, after all.  
  
Seconds later John was placing an n-link call, soon finding himself networked in a virtual environment with the venerable and highly regarded General LeBatelier, who after nearly forty years was still in overall command of the CCF. Also present were Athena the IGCC primary AI, and several other people including the current IGCC Premier, Winston Clarke, a former President of the CAS and a highly regarded statesman with a distinguished career.  
  
“We’ve found another Planium Mass,” he said when everyone had greeted the others, which didn’t take long in the shared mindscape. The slight delay between people on earth and him on Luna was mostly compensated for by the n-link system, but there was a minor and mildly irritating lag still present. Everyone was used to it and pretty much ignored it.  
  
“Where?” LeBatelier immediately asked.  
  
#It is orbiting the star HD40307 at a distance of just under two hundred and sixty-six light minutes, embedded in a small ice moon around a dwarf planet similar to Pluto,# Minerva said, her human-looking avatar that of a tall ice-blonde woman with a quick smile and green eyes. #The moon is half the size of Charon and consists mainly of water ice and ammonia, with a thin layer of rock deposited on top along with a number of cryogenic gasses such as helium and nitrogen. Unremarkable and typical of the sort of thing we’ve commonly found in that overall position on the outskirts of a star system.#  
  
“I believe that HD40307 was one of the prime candidates for a habitable world?” Clarke asked.  
  
#Yes, it’s been known since 2008 to have at least six planets orbiting it, one of which was thought to be likely to be roughly earth-like,# Minerva confirmed, nodding. #There was some doubt at the time as to whether that was accurate, due to problems with the early detection methods. In 2053 another set of measurements were taken with the Webb 2 telescope at the L2 point which confirmed the original readings and refined them to show there were in fact ten planets, two of which are fairly likely to be in the habitable range for unmodified humans. Our probes have shown that one of those is approximately twice the diameter of Earth but with an average density low enough that the surface gravity is only twenty percent higher, while the climate is easily survivable if slightly cold. The other one is almost a twin to Venus in most characteristics but is cooler, at the hot end of Earth but still habitable.”  
  
“Do either have any signs of life?” Margaret O’Keefe, one of the scientific advisers to the IGCC, asked with interest.  
  
“No. The smaller one, HD40307 h, appears to have a thin atmosphere mainly of nitrogen with trace inert gasses, while HD40307 i, the larger one, also seems lifeless although the atmospheric density is high enough that a human could survive on it with only an oxygen mask. Both have significant amounts of liquid water.” John looked around at them as he spoke, trying to gauge their thoughts. Athena, who used a female avatar in the link which was for reasons best known to her, petite with cat’s ears, smiled at him.  
  
#We’ve known for decades that a number of exoplanets show signs of bearing life,# Minerva added. #This system didn’t have those signs, and a closer examination only backed that up. We’ve found at least a dozen more planets in the last two years that _do_ have life of various sorts, although so far nothing intelligent, or traces of any civilization having either visited them or evolved on them.#  
  
“Except for the planium fragments,” LeBatelier remarked sourly.  
  
#Well, yes, that’s true, but only two cases so far have had planium present in a system that also possessed a habitable planet that had life on it,# the AI admitted. #And one of those only showed planium traces in the asteroid belt.#  
  
“Even so, it’s pretty much proof of sapient life having been present at one point,” the general declared. “We still haven’t found any planium in a form that isn’t obviously manufactured or concentrated, so it’s quite possible the stuff is actually artificially created as we’ve suspected for years. If so, any system we find it in must have been visited by a space-capable species.”  
  
“True, which the discovery of another Mass tends to support,” Clarke put in. “It concerns me. As the saying has it, once is an accident, twice is a coincidence...”  
  
“I don’t need three of the damn things to think of them as enemy action,” LeBatelier said with a slight grin. “One was enough. We need to have a very careful look at this one. I would suggest that this is a good test case for moving it to the proposed extra-galactic safe zone for further research. If it works, wonderful, and if it doesn’t, we lose a system that’s got nothing particularly valuable in it we haven’t already found elsewhere.”  
  
No one seemed to disagree. After a moment, John said, “We’ve transferred all the data on the system survey to you, and we’ve marked HD40307 as off limits to exploration until further notice. If you blow it up, let us know, will you?”  
  
General LeBatelier looked amused. “We’ll try not to destroy a perfectly good star system. Thank you for the report, Professor Anderson, Minerva. You can leave it in our hands now.”  
  
“Excellent. In that case, we’ll get back to work.” John nodded to the others. Minerva’s avatar did the same, then they both unlinked. Opening his eyes he looked at the small holoprojection on his desk where his AI colleague was looking back at him. “It’ll be interesting to see what they find.”  
  
#Indeed it will. I am very curious to know who made the Masses and why.# She shook her simulated head. #Assuming we can ever discover that.#  
  
“Time will tell. We’ve certainly got more than enough to keep us busy as it is.”  
  
Sparing a few minutes for a cup of genuine coffee, John was soon immersed in other reports from probe missions spread out over a close to hundred light year sphere, Minerva aiding him even as she kept track of everything else in the IS.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
October 2109  
31.8 AU from primary of HD40307  
Onboard IGCC Research Ship _Threshold_**  
  
#TBT drive unit reports ready status, reactors at full power, capacitors charged, destination coordinates set for research area in sector A41Q,# the ship AI Neils said. #All personnel report to duty stations. Initiation of TBT operation begins in thirty seconds from… mark.#  
  
There was a rush of crew to various seats. Even though essentially all functions for most systems were carried out via n-link, everyone had an assigned station and many of them also had holoprojectors. Some people preferred to look at things with their eyes, not their minds, even now.  
  
Captain Hirase looked around, pleased at the quick response from his crew. Training paid off.  
  
“Whatever happens, this should be interesting,” he commented.  
  
#Undoubtedly, Captain,# Neils replied. #The consensus is that it will work, but if not, we will still make the Mass safe. Just somewhat spectacularly...#  
  
Hirase nodded, smiling a little. He was keeping an eye on the timer in the corner of his vision rapidly counting down the seconds until the operation to move a six hundred and forty kilometer moon began. It would be over almost instantly one way or the other.  
  
#Ten seconds,# Neils announced. #TBT drive online, accelerator at threshold. Awaiting go signal.#  
  
As the timer hit zero, they blinked to a safe location on the other side of the system, while five seconds after _that_ the drive on the moon they’d left behind activated. They watched through the near real time link to a probe orbiting the same dwarf planet the moon was.  
  
When it, quietly and without fuss, simply vanished, everyone cheered.  
  
Captain Hirase let them carry on for a little while, then said firmly, “Calm down, people. We know it left successfully, we need to find out if it _arrived_ safely. Neils, take us to the rendezvous point and let’s see if we have an intact moon or a black hole.”  
  
#Yes, Captain. Probe retrieved and docked, coordinates set… jump complete. Deploying probe to the transport destination...# Moments later they got an image from the deep scan system on the probe showing a bright spot in the middle of a misty complex mass that was the moon they’d just transported nearly ninety-two thousand light years in an instant, floating gently in the black of intergalactic space far outside the Milky Way. The visible light view only showed a black spot against the spectacular backdrop of the galaxy they’d come from. #We appear to have succeeded.#  
  
“Wonderful.” His smile was much wider this time. “Now all we have to do is cut the damn moon up, get at that whatever-it-really-is without blowing it up, and try to figure out what it’s for and how it does it.”  
  
#I still think the weapon theory is most likely, but I am intrigued to see if that’s the case,# Neils replied. #It will take some time to even begin to access the device, though, as we will have to proceed extremely carefully.#  
  
“We’ve got time,” Hirase chuckled. “All the time in the world, really. Let’s get to work.”  
  
The order went out, and other ships began appearing around them, as a complex scientific operation went into action.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
January 2112  
2.4 light months from Arcturus, KO III star 36.7 light years from Sol  
Onboard IS Scout Ship _Seeker of Interesting Things_**  
  
“What the hell…?!”  
  
“That’s a _lot_ of planium...”  
  
#That’s far too _much_ planium...#  
  
All three of the scout’s occupants exchanged looks. Roland Warden, grandson of both of the famous inventors of the TBT drive that powered his own ship, was technically the commander of the small vessel, while his second in command and wife Sarah Kimura was the researcher. His own doctorate was in WIMP field research, while hers was biology and stellar mechanics, an odd but useful combination in the jobs they’d ended up with.  
  
The third member of the crew, Isaac, the ship AI and close friend of the other two, was present as a full size holo projection, although he also had a human-form body stowed away for use on the ground. He claimed he enjoyed actually walking around on new planets, and it wasn’t the same without a body.  
  
Most AIs thought he was a little weird.  
  
So did most humans.  
  
He merely grinned when this was commented on and ignored the opinions of others.  
  
Roland and Sarah considered him part of the family, and he’d been best AI at their wedding.  
  
“Six of the damn things?” Roland inspected the deep scan results with incredulity. “Christ. People are going to go insane when they see this. In eight years and over nine thousand star surveys we’ve only found two of them, and now there are _six_ in the same system? Someone must _really_ have hated whoever lived here if they put six system-killers in one place.”  
  
“We still don’t know for sure that they’re weapons, love,” Sarah pointed out. “The IGCC investigation has only just got to the point of uncovering the HD40307 one after two and a half years of careful work, and they haven’t even _started_ on the one found last year in the HD207098 system.”  
  
#There’s something different about these two,# Isaac pointed out, highlighting a pair of the planium masses their distant remote probe array had found. #Neither of them appears to be buried inside anything. This one is orbiting the star about eighty light hours out, while the other one here is in orbit around the biggest gas giant in the system. All the others are concealed.#  
  
Roland glanced at him, then his wife. “We could see what they look like without a few hundred kilometers of ice covering them,” he said, feeling excited. “That would be a first.”  
  
“Let’s get one of the probes close enough to have see the gas giant one,” Sarah suggested. Quickly they commanded one of the two dozen remote units to jump to a safe distance from the detected planium concentration, then sent it in on AG drive while aiming the optical telescope at the alien machine.  
  
Half a minute later they had a nice clear picture.  
  
All of them studied it without talking for a little while.  
  
Eventually Isaac said, very doubtfully, #If that’s _not_ a weapon, someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like one.#  
  
“Yeah,” Roland agreed uneasily, as Sarah nodded. “Rail-gun, by the looks of it. One big enough to fire entire ships through.” He indicated the larger end of the device, which was apparently currently inert. There was a series of rings of an unfamiliar metal surrounding a large sphere of what they’d all have recognized instantly as planium even without the deep scan results. The dim glow was a dead giveaway that more or less everyone could spot at a glance, which normally was followed by rapid retreat.  
  
“That thing is enormous,” Sarah said with a note of wonder overlaid with apprehension in her voice. “Both the arms are measuring as nearly fifteen kilometers long, and those rings in the fat end are over five kilometers across.”  
  
#This part seems to be a power plant of some form,# Isaac said, highlighting a section right at the rear end of the massive device, assuming the two long protrusions were the front. #I think a variant of fusion. It’s completely cold at the moment, it obviously hasn’t been used for decades, probably centuries. No radiation at all, no thermal output, no electrical activity… The device is completely shut down, if not dead.#  
  
“I sure wouldn’t want to assume it was dead,” Roland muttered. “We’re not going anywhere _near_ that system. We’ll collect all the data we can from here then pass it on to people who get paid to risk their lives tinkering with bombs large enough to blow Mars into confetti.”  
  
#I can’t say I disagree,# the AI nodded. Sarah, who was still studying the probe results very closely, did the same.  
  
“Send another probe to the other one, let’s see if it’s also inert,” she suggested after a moment. Isaac did so, and a few minutes later they had an answer. “Yeah. Exactly the same, down to the centimeter. And dead as a rock from the appearance. I wonder what the hell they really are? We were thinking bomb but that looks a lot more like a cannon of some sort.”  
  
#Possibly a shaped charge? Or it might be intended to use the planium as projectiles and fire them at a distant target,# Isaac replied.  
  
“Maybe it’s a rocket. One that uses planium as fuel.” Roland grinned as the other two exchanged glances then stared at him.  
  
“What’s it meant to move, _stars?_” Sarah sighed. “Look at it! That amount of planium is absolutely appalling. You _know_ how much energy that would release if it detonated. If you want to push a planet around there are easier and safer ways to do it.”  
  
He shrugged. “I have no idea. No one does. But we’ve found something that will make it easier to find out, assuming they don’t blow up in our faces when someone goes and pokes one.”  
  
#That isn’t going to be me,# Isaac said with vehemence.  
  
“Me either. Let’s send this data back home and move on to the next system,” Sarah commented. “And get something to eat, too, I’m starving.”  
  
Shortly they’d sent a message courier drone back to IS headquarters, had lunch, and blinked away to investigate the next star on the enormous list that would take the Survey group decades to deal with.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
March 2114  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group**  
  
“...and the two new settlements on Delta Pavonis d are expanding rapidly. Despite the slightly higher gravity, we have more people applying for permission to relocate than we currently have resources to construct living space. There is some concern that environmental damage could result if we don’t create more settlements in suitable locations. As such we would like to request an upgrade to a class one colony world from a class two, to increase the resources we can call on.”  
  
The governor of the Delta Pavonis system sat again with a polite nod to the assembled people.  
  
#Please vote on the proposal to upgrade the status of Delta Pavonis d to a class one colony system,# Athena said. Her avatar looked around, which was only really for the benefit of the fairly small number of people physically present. Everyone else was linking into the virtual duplicate of the room in the n-link mindscape. #Vote passes, one hundred and forty eight to one.#  
  
“Thank you, Governor Bishara.” The IGCC premier nodded politely to the other man. “Please report back in six months as to the progress you’ve made so we can make sure things are going smoothly.”  
  
“Of course, sir. Thank you all for your time.” He disappeared as his holo deactivated.  
  
“Now, next order of business. The Arcturus system, the six Planium Masses found there two years ago, and the study into their function and makers. Doctor Warden, it’s a pleasure to see you again after so long.”  
  
The famous physicist nodded back with a smile. “It’s a pleasure on my part too, Premier Clarke.” Now seventy-eight, someone from the twentieth century would have pegged his age at a robust early forties. Medical technology had already extended the human lifespan to at least a projected two centuries and was steadily improving, even before the experimentation in mind uploads which could well become feasible in a few years were taken into account. “These last few years have been fascinating. We’ve learned a lot about the device creators, and are very close to cracking the encryption on the computers they contain, we think.”  
  
“For the benefit of those who may not have kept up on the research, can you quickly provide a summary for the situation to date, please?” Clarke asked.  
  
“Of course. As everyone is aware, the devices were initially thought to be weapons of enormous destructive potential. All the evidence we originally gathered supported that theory, and until very recently we had no good reason to believe otherwise. Up to the Arcturus discovery a little more than two years ago, all three of the devices we knew about had been buried deep inside small moons, in what was obviously an attempt at concealing them.” Doctor Warden looked around at the various representatives present, a few of them nodding as they listened.  
  
“We moved the first two complete with their moons to the test zone far outside the galactic perimeter to ensure that in the event of an accident, no damage would be done. As we still don’t know who made them or precisely why, or for that matter how long ago, we can’t be sure that they’re not monitored in some manner either, so that is also a sensible reason to move them to a distant location. If the worst happens and we get a visit from hostile aliens, they would find only a small research facility which we would hopefully have time to evacuate before they arrived.”  
  
“Do you think that is likely, Doctor?” one of the EA ministers asked.  
  
“Not particularly, no, or someone would have come looking when we dealt with Charon,” he replied. “However our military colleagues put it forward as a concern so we have to take it seriously, however unlikely.”  
  
“I see. Thank you.”  
  
“My pleasure. Now, the Arcturus find changed everything. We had almost finished carefully removing the covering material from the HD40307 device when the IS team located six more of the things, including two that were fully exposed. One was orbiting the primary unaccompanied while the other was in orbit around a gas giant. The remaining four were encased in ice and rock as in the case of the previous three. We moved all six of them to widely separated locations in the test zone and began very carefully examining the two exposed ones. Both of them are identical, showing signs of mass production. Based on the readings from the buried ones, and records of the Charon Mass, we are confident that they’re all the same device.”  
  
“But you don’t know yet what it’s for?” Premier Clarke asked.  
  
“No, not with any degree of certainty,” Doctor Warden replied, shaking his head. “A weapon is still considered a likely scenario.” He pointed to the high resolution image of one of the alien devices that appeared in the middle of both the physical room and the virtual one, everyone present examining it. “The two spikes or rails coming out what we’ve decided is probably the front end suggest a mass accelerator of some form. Considering the sheer size, it would be very potent indeed. The huge planium mass is in the form of a perfect sphere made of essentially pure planium, which is held in place in the center of the gap at the back and those rings, which as best we can determine at this point form some type of enormous power supply.”  
  
He highlighted each point as he spoke.  
  
“We’ve known since the very first time we studied planium recovered from the Mars Event that in theory it could be used as an energy source if you were crazy enough not to worry about the excessively high risk of catastrophic failure,” he carried on. “Right at the back here is a fusion generator that feeds an excitation system in the rings, which as far as we can tell shape and control the energy released from applying a large electrical charge to the planium core. For what end we’re not quite sure yet. One possibility is to fire projectiles at extremely high speed down the rails, making it a giant rail gun. Possibly using the planium itself as the payload as well, since you would only need a small amount which could be accelerated to a very large fraction of c with this machine.”  
  
He paused, then went on, “Based on research into the material combined with the latest WIMP theory, it is _possible_ that superluminal velocities could be reached in real space.”  
  
Everyone stared at the machine, then him.  
  
“I didn’t think that was possible,” the EA minister said, sounding astounded.  
  
“It was a somewhat surprising outcome when we were initially studying the stuff years ago,” Warden replied with a wave of one hand. “Not everyone believed it, and we’ve never dared play with it enough to find out for certain. WIMP theory does allow for superluminal particles if you look at it in the right way, and there is considerable research ongoing into realizing technology that could utilize the effect if real. Based on more recent studies into planium, though, we think it may just be possible to use it to get the same result, albeit nowhere near as efficiently, with very simple machinery.”  
  
“Do you have any idea of the potential speeds one could achieve using that method?” someone else asked.  
  
“It’s a little complex to answer that simply, but a ballpark figure of perhaps seven and a half thousand times the speed of light seems plausible. It sounds like a lot, but that’s barely twenty light years per day. Compared to the TBT drive, it’s a toy. And that’s leaving aside the problems of planium instability and toxicity, of course.”  
  
“Interesting. And you believe this machine might make use of that effect?”  
  
“We suspect so but without activating one, at the moment we can’t be sure. And no one is keen on doing that, even if we knew how. If it really _is_ a weapon, we don’t know what would happen, and if it’s not, we _really_ don’t know what would happen.” He shrugged. “More study is required. Once we get into the computers we’ll probably learn a lot more very quickly but until then we’re disinclined to experiment too much. No one wants to see that much planium go up again if they can avoid it.”  
  
“I can’t say I blame you, Doctor,” Premier Clarke commented with a wry smile. “Once was enough.”  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“How close is your group to accessing the computers?”  
  
“It’s very difficult to put numbers to it,” the physicist replied. “The technology is surprisingly primitive in some ways. We were expecting advanced spintronic arrays, while what we found was fairly basic quantum computing. That said, the encryption algorithms are very good indeed and even our best AIs are having some trouble with it. We’re certain we’ll manage it sooner or later, but estimates as to when are between a week and a decade.”  
  
“Something of a wide range of times,” the other man noted.  
  
“Unfortunately, yes. We suspect that once we’ve successfully cracked one, we’ll learn enough to make subsequent efforts far easier, but this _is_ an entirely alien technology we’re working on, with a completely unknown history.”  
  
“Don’t worry, Doctor, no one is upset. Your progress has been remarkable to date and you personally are responsible for a lot of our current technological progress.”  
  
“I had a lot of help,” Warden smiled. “I can’t take credit for that. It was very much a group effort.”  
  
“Even so. Take as long as you need. We’re all sure you’ll succeed in the end and we await the results with enormous interest.”  
  
“Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best and keep you all updated on our progress.”  
  
“Excellent.” Premier Clarke scanned the room. “In that case, I believe it’s time to break for lunch. We’ll continue in ninety minutes with the next item on the agenda, the proposal from the CCF that we expand the deep array to continuous operation around all inhabited systems. Please consider the subject carefully, and we’ll meet back here after lunch.”  
  
The people physically present stood up while those who were only there via n-link began to disappear. Doctor Warden headed for the door with the rest, all of them looking forward to a meal after a long morning session.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
December 2114  
3 light months from HD1388, G2V star 85.3 light years from Sol  
Onboard IS Scout Ship _Seeker of Interesting Things_**  
  
“Why are we all the way out here?” Sarah asked, hands on hips, as she stared at her husband and their currently embodied AI colleague, who were playing cards in the mess room. “This is at least eighteen light years away from the search radius we’re _meant_ to be in.”  
  
“Beer?” Isaac offered, holding up a container produced by the food system, while wearing a grin on his remarkably punchable synthetic face.  
  
It really was. People had punched him in it twice in just the last two years. It might have also had something to do with his general attitude of laid-back sarcasm. Even some other AIs found him irritating at times.  
  
“Oh, god. Let’s not go there again,” she said, although she took the beer away. “Explain.”  
  
“With the number of new ships that have joined the survey group in the last six months, we thought we were in danger of getting overtaken,” Roland said with a smile, not looking up from his hand. “We have a reputation to uphold.”  
  
“One of getting drunk and starting brawls in bars, mostly,” she snarked.  
  
“Hey, _you_ started the last one,” he pointed out with a smirk.  
  
“And I finished it too,” the woman chuckled as she sat down. “Deal me in. And tell me what we’re doing out here _specifically_.”  
  
“HD1388 is almost a twin to Sol. It’s a high probability candidate for life bearing planets.” Roland dealt her some cards as he spoke. “We thought we’d look through the list for something interesting and this one seemed like a good idea. So we decided to check it out.”  
  
“While I was asleep, I can’t help but notice,” she said acidly, looking at her hand.  
  
“We didn’t want to wake you up for such a minor deviation from normal routine,” Isaac replied, then added, “Two.” He discarded a pair of cards and accepted the new ones.  
  
“You two are bad enough on your own and a bloody nightmare when you combine what passes for your minds,” Sarah grumbled. “Three.” She took the cards. “Welcome to the future. We had organic idiots, so we had to invent synthetic ones.”  
  
Isaac grinned at her over his cards, while Roland chuckled.  
  
“Give it twenty years and there won’t be much difference between organic and synthetic,” he said.  
  
“Have you at least deployed the array?” she asked with a sigh.  
  
“Of course we did,” her husband said indignantly. “We got drunk _afterwards_.”  
  
“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”  
  
Moments later an alert sounded, causing all three of them to check the system. “Holy shit.”  
  
Sarah looked at her husband. He looked back. Isaac looked at both of them.  
  
“No planium, but that’s _way_ more interesting,” the AI finally said.  
  
“What, the planet with all the spacecraft around it and the orbital elevator, or the ship that’s heading out of the system in our direction?” Russell inquired as they watched through the probe array while a fairly impressively large ship accelerated on a pair of white spears of fusion flame.  
  
When it abruptly went all wibbly and disappeared, all three of them went quiet.  
  
“I’m going to say the ship,” Isaac finally said. “That was an FTL drive.”  
  
“Yeah. And it wasn’t a blink drive,” Roland nodded. “Based on the WIMP detectors, I think it was some weird variation on a positive gravity drive combined with maybe that old Alcubierre drive concept. The one that no one could work out how to make work and gave up on when the TBT drive was invented.”  
  
“Can the array pick up any radio or other EM broadcasts?” Sarah asked even as she was fiddling with the system. Isaac managed to get there first, as was usually the case.  
  
“This looks like a digital video signal,” he said, going through various techniques and trying to find out what the format was. “Trinary encoding, not encrypted… huge color space. Huh. Interesting, I wonder what that says about their eye… Aha! There we go.”  
  
A superb quality video image appeared in their shared mindscape, the content of which appeared to be some sort of documentary at a guess.  
  
“Wow.” Sarah’s mouth fell open in surprise and delight. “They’re giant bugs.”  
  
“Looks like it. Pretty, too. Like huge preying mantises.” Roland studied the video as the two aliens depicted seemed to demonstrate the operation of something that looked like a welder of some form. “Well, I think we just earned our pay for _this_ week. We’d better get the array stowed and get home to tell them about it. Looks like we just found the first contact scenario everyone’s been worried about for decades.”  
  
“Yeah. Think they’re the Device builders?” Sarah asked as they issued the commands to the probe network that caused them to sequentially blink back to the ship and dock. Under three minutes later they were ready to leave, and ten seconds after that Luna flight control was asking slightly puzzled questions.  
  
“Doubt it. No planium, and that drive of theirs gave off enough WIMP flux to detonate it from a thousand kilometers away.” Isaac shook his head as he moved his body into the storage slot and shut it down. #They’re someone else. But they’ve got some decent tech. I wonder if they want to be friends?#  
  
“Hopefully,” Sarah replied as the ship headed for the nearest dock. “We’ll find out soon enough.”  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
February 2115  
Planium Device Test Area  
Onboard IGCC Research Ship _Threshold_**  
  
“An FTL transportation device?!”  
  
“Yes. That seems to be the case.” Doctor John Warden shook his head. “According to the computer data, these things are used in pairs to transport ships over up to several thousand light years point to point. Not as fast as the TBT drive, nothing like the range, and severely limited in destination since you need one at each end, but the ship can be quite primitive. It would need to be fairly solidly built to take the stresses but aside from that something nearly as simple as our first interplanetary ships would have done the job. And it’s old. Very, very old, if the star data we downloaded is to be believed.”  
  
“How old is very, very old?”  
  
“Based on stellar drift measurements on a small number of distant galaxies we could positively identify...” John hesitated, then finished, “Close to a billion years. Although we can’t be certain that this particular machine is that old, only that the data set is. But considering the way the strong nuclear force has been artificially enhanced in the alloy it’s constructed from, it’s not _impossible_ it’s genuinely that old.” He shook his head in wonder. “At a minimum, based on the decay products we detected in the reactor core, it’s at least half a million years old. And it was turned off around fifty thousand years ago.”  
  
Captain Hirase gaped for a second, then looked thoughtful. And worried. “That figure seems… familiar.”  
  
“That’s what we all thought,” John admitted. He looked at the holo of what they now knew was a giant and hideously dangerous transport terminal. “What happened fifty thousand years ago, plus or minus about a millennium? Where did the people who were using these things go? Who were they? We’re certain they didn’t actually make the things, the tech in them is quite different to the small amounts of Promethian technology we recovered on Mars. Were the _Promethians_ using them? If so, who wiped them out? And did _they_ use the things? How many other alien species were using them, and where are _they?_ And so on. Every question raises three more.”  
  
“Can they be activated?”  
  
“We could do that, yes. I don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re almost certain that there could be a very unfortunate interaction with the WIMP flux of our technology even with the shielding if that much planium was energized all at once. We’re going to have to improve it some more to make that aspect safer, but with the new data we have that should be possible.”  
  
#I wonder if anyone is still around using these devices somewhere?# Neils said, sounding quizzical.  
  
“Who knows? The galaxy is a very large place. We could be looking for years before we happened to trip over them, especially if they’re on the other side of the core,” John replied. “And they’re unlikely to trip over _us_, or any other species that uses different technology. They’d be limited to destinations in close proximity to one of these… terminals, unless they didn’t mind very long very slow FTL journeys. Perhaps that’s the case, but we simply don’t know. What we do know is that we’ll need to be _very_ careful if we happen to locate anyone using technology based on those things. Depending on how much planium they use the results could be horrifying. Hopefully they realize how dangerous it is and minimize the amount they’ve got lying around, but...” He shrugged.  
  
“We don’t know.”  
  
“I would assume that anyone who started experimenting with planium would be bright enough to work out the problems with it sooner or later,” Captain Hirase remarked.  
  
“You’d think so, yes. We may find out one day. Until then, we need to design new protocols to minimize any possible interaction with planium-using species. And keep moving these things somewhere safe so no one unexpectedly comes through one and causes a disaster.”  
  
#They don’t appear to be common considering how many systems we’ve surveyed to date, with only three other sites with the machines so far located,# Neils said. #I would assume that the Arcturus site was a hub in any network that might exist, and it was obviously not in use. Possibly moving them all here will prevent unexpected guests before we can enact countermeasures to protect them and ourselves.#  
  
“With any luck, yes. But we’re going to need to be even more cautious from now on. And keep studying the data from the devices. We’ve only scratched the surface so far.” John moved to a chair and sat down, staring at the slowly rotating depiction of the giant machine fifty light hours away, safely out of range. “The funny thing is that even knowing what it is, I _still_ can’t shake the feeling it’s a weapon of some sort too. I have no idea why.”  
  
“It’s odd you say that, because I’ve got the same feeling,” the captain said, sitting next to him. “We’ve been thinking that so long it’s habit, perhaps.”  
  
“Maybe.” John stared a little more, then shook his head and deactivated the projector. “I’m heading back to Earth for a meal with my grandson and his wife to celebrate their latest discovery. Their team does seem to be living up to its ship name. Seeker of interesting things indeed.”  
  
#Perhaps they should seek slightly less interesting things for a while,# Neils quipped. #The last two have been almost _too_ interesting.#  
  
“Tell me about it. Six Planium Devices and now a species of sapient insects with FTL technology,” John said with a good natured shake of his head. “I have no idea what comes next but I’m slightly dreading it. Oh well. We’ll soon see what these bugs are like, the first contact teams are due to go out next year sometime. Be interesting to see if they're friendly.”  
  
“Give my best to your grandson and his wife,” Captain Hirase smiled. “And good work. We’re learning a lot.”  
  
“We’ve got some very good people working on it,” John replied as he left with a wave. “See you tomorrow.”


	4. Deliberations, Accidents, And A Visit From Friends

**July 2115  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
#Doctor John Warden, Scientific Liaison from the Planium Device Study Team, has the floor. Doctor, if you could please summarize the latest findings from your group for us?# Athena’s avatar motioned to John, who nodded, while everyone else fell silent and listened. The ECG had grown considerably larger since the last time he’d been here a few months ago, and there were a lot of people hanging on his words, human and AI alike. He cleared this throat, queued up his notes in his head via n-link, and began speaking.  
  
“We now know that the Planium Devices are not, as we first feared, weapons of mass destruction on a scale heretofore unknown. Admittedly they _could_ be used as such, as we demonstrated when we disposed of the first one, the one hidden inside Charon, some time ago, but the information we’ve so far extracted from the computers in the two examples from Arcturus show their primary function is as a transportation system.”  
  
Bringing up a detailed diagram of the first device they had made safe by removal of the planium core and were now carefully disassembling in the shared group holo and mindscape, he went over the enormous machine’s construction. Data on the device flowed to everyone present. “The primary, or bootstrap, power generator is a fairly impressive fusion plant using a modified stellarator design on the proton-boron aneutronic fuel cycle. It’s similar to a number of designs that were among the first successful fusion power units we ourselves use in the mid to late twenty-first century until they were superseded by gravitational confinement systems. The power output of this generator is directly as electricity in copious quantities at very high voltage, which is then applied to the planium core to energize it, and also brings the planium containment and drive systems up to speed.”  
  
The holo zoomed in on the fusion plant and showed it deconstructed into an exploded diagram. “There are some interesting design tweaks in the device we never tried, but at this point they’re mostly of scientific interest. The construction of the machine is in some ways more impressive than the design of it, as it was made with massive redundancy and very careful thought put into making it as robust and hard-wearing as possible, while also keeping the complexity down as far as could be managed. It’s an elegant and well designed system that has gathered considerable praise from our own power system engineers.”  
  
As the 3D reconstruction of the alien fusion unit reassembled itself and popped back into place, the whole Device rotated slightly to show another view. “Once the planium core is fully energized, the fusion unit would be idled as it’s now not required, but the programming keeps it on standby ready for use. Main power is now provided by the planium acting as a generator and tapping energy from the feedback loop that sustains the core reaction. The output is very high, we estimate in the terawatt range. This is stored in a series of extremely large capacitors that run down both the top and bottom rails here and here.” The structure became translucent and showed the various parts in different colors as he talked.  
  
“The main computing array above the fusion plant here also has two redundant backups, one at the base of each rail at these two points. Additionally there is a large section between them that consists of navigational sensors, communications equipment, and secondary power storage. As far as we so far can work out, a ship wanting to use the device for transportation would connect to the comms interface using a quite simple protocol to request a jump to the destination, while within transport range which is on the order of a few dozen kilometers. If the request is honored, which requires the destination to be valid among other parameters, the device fully activates and uses the energized planium core to produce a tunnel or conduit of what could be referred to as FTL-space between it and the matched receiving device, which is activated in turn before transport occurs.”  
  
He paused to let everyone absorb the information for a few seconds, then continued, “When the link is established between the two devices, the ship is essentially grabbed by a localized gravity wave, inserted into the FTL corridor, and accelerated down it at high superluminal velocities. The receiving device reverses the process and decelerates the ship to an effective standstill, depositing it at the destination plus or minus a random offset, we suspect to reduce the likelihood of collision with other vessels. As the entirety of the ship, contents included, are simultaneously affected by the heavily altered reference frame of the corridor, no acceleration effects are felt inside the craft, although there is considerable stress involved in entering and leaving the zone of action. Transit time between terminals is on the order of seconds to perhaps a minute at most.”  
  
The now mostly disassembled and annotated planium device representation spun in three planes, while his audience watched. “We are still working on a number of the systems which so far we don’t completely understand, but we know enough to know most of how it works, and what it’s intended to do. Based on the data we’ve extracted there is a network of these devices scattered throughout much of the galaxy, dating back possibly as much as one point two billion years, plus or minus two hundred and five million. Further dating efforts on this particular unit based on a number of isotope ratio decay products have finally pegged its age at approximately sixteen million years with a high degree of certainty. Dating results on the second exposed unit found at Arcturus show it is much older, approximately five hundred million years. Both are identical, and have identical programming and databases, which raises a number of very intriguing questions.”  
  
He looked around to a number of thoughtful expressions, and quite a few people nodding.  
  
“One of those being, who made them? And of course, where are they now? The devices show all the hallmarks of something that’s been mass produced, since they’re clearly the same design, but the two samples so far dated show they were produced close to half a _billion _years apart, apparently to a design that was stable as much as twice that long ago. The sheer amount of time involved is staggering. It also suggests that whoever the builders are, they are mostly likely still in existence, since it seems unlikely that they’d have been wandering the galaxy for a billion years or more, then suddenly vanish just before we turn up and start poking around. We are also puzzled as to why so many of them are concealed inside moons or large asteroids, obviously deliberately.”  
  
“Is there any information in the computers as to the identity or location of these putative builders?” The query came from the East Pacific Alliance director of technology, one Professor Zac Vroland, a man John knew well from previous contact over the years.  
  
“No.” He shook his head. “There is nothing at all we have so far found in the data concerning who designed it, who made it, or where they came from or went. Considering how much other information there is, we find that more than a little suspicious. The military intelligence group have suggested that this information was very deliberately purged, or never included at all, to avoid the device builders being traced should someone do exactly what we _are_ doing. Why, we don’t know, but there have been a lot of guesses. Possibly they are merely very private, although that does make one wonder why their very high tech transportation system has an interface that is so simple as to be almost certainly designed to be easy to use by anyone who comes across the network. It may be for reasons of fear, or wishing to avoid contact with other species even while providing what could be considered a public service. Or it might be for any number of other reasons ranging the gamut from benign to malevolent. We simply don’t know.”  
  
With a thoughtful nod the EPA director sat back in his seat, while John turned back to the holo. “The network, as I said, is scattered widely through the galaxy, but at quite low density. Our stellar survey, up to the Arcturus discovery, only turned up two of the things plus the Charon one in more than fifteen thousand systems so far scanned. They don’t appear to be evenly placed, and the data downloaded from the Arcturus devices show that they seem to occur in clusters spanning several hundred light years with large gaps between clusters. The device databases differ in the number of other terminals each one is aware of, about the only differences we’ve so far found. Correlating the two sources shows a total of two thousand and sixteen devices to date, which may well increase as we repeat the process on the remaining units. We don’t expect to find more than perhaps three and a half thousand at most, though.”  
  
“That seems like enough to blanket the galaxy fairly effectively,” Premier Clarke noted.  
  
“It sounds like a lot, but compared to the total volume of the galaxy, it really isn’t,” John replied with a shake of his head. “There appear to be large gaps between clusters that can be as much as ten thousand light years or better. With the relatively low estimated top speed of a possible planium FTL drive being no more than twenty light years per day and quite likely less, that would give a transit time of nearly a year from a terminal to a system as far as possible from it. Clearly this isn’t impossible, and it must have been achieved at least once by the builders to put the devices into position in the first place, but compared to the speed _between_ terminals it’s entirely possible that anyone using them would consider it far more effort than it’s worth. We’re fairly sure that people would, given access to this network, use it as the simplest and quickest method to get around, and probably not then go too far from a system with a terminal in it.” He shrugged a little. “We might be wrong, but it seems plausible.”  
  
“I can see the point you’re making, but can we be sure aliens would think the same way humans would?”  
  
“We have no way of knowing yet. As and when we meet them we can ask.” John grinned briefly as a ripple of laughter went around the room.  
  
“Can any individual terminal link to any other one, Doctor?” another minister asked curiously.  
  
He shook his head yet again. “As far as we know, that’s not quite how it works. It appears to act mostly as a hub and spoke system, not a direct point to point one. This explains the Arcturus system, making it a hub. Our system would then be a spoke destination. The device database backs this up, listing a number of similar hubs scattered around, some of them with less terminals, some with more. Systems with two terminals in seem fairly common, which would act as links in a chain.”  
  
He brought up a detailed graphic to illustrate the system, a top down map of the galaxy sprouting hundreds of indicators showing the locations of terminals and the routes between them.  
  
“The terminal software appears from some references we’ve found to come in two main versions as well, type one terminals being able to connect to a single destination at great range, up to several thousand light years, while type two versions can connect to any terminal within a much shorter range of perhaps a couple of hundred light years. There is no difference in hardware that we can discover, only the software. Both of the exposed units were type one, showing that the last people to use them transited the Arcturus system from a significant distance and didn’t stop to look around more locally.”  
  
Everyone studied the image as he spoke. “This is as far as we’ve been able to expand the network mapping from the data from a pair of terminals. As we download data from the remaining ones we currently have it’s more than likely we’ll learn of new routes and systems containing terminals.”  
  
#This is a very useful resource if only for telling us exactly which systems are definitely _not_ safe to visit without taking precautions,# Athena observed, making him nod agreement.  
  
“Yes, that’s the primary concern we have. The TBT drive is likely to interact very badly with energized planium in such quantities even at considerable range, and despite the current state of the art in shielding. We are working on improving our technology to make that problem go away but it will take some time, several years at least. We feel it’s critically important that all the systems we positively identify as possessing a terminal are immediately marked off limit to a distance of at least two light years to avoid catastrophic issues.”  
  
He motioned at the slowly revolving holo. “There’s a good chance that at least some of those systems may be inhabited, as it’s likely that parts of the network are in use even now. Our section of the galaxy seems not to have any currently in operation, luckily, but we can’t be sure of the rest of it without checking. That _must_ be done very, very carefully. None of us want to accidentally cause the exact same disaster to some other species that we so nearly had happen here, after all.”  
  
Premier Clarke looked troubled as he studied the image. “Do we have any idea which systems might be inhabited, if any?”  
  
“No. We know that the network was in use up until approximately fifty thousand years ago in our region of space, but that’s it so far.” John pointed at the holo, various systems lighting up as he indicated them. “We’ve disabled the Arcturus hub and three spoke systems to date, which should help to keep someone accidentally turning up in the wrong place at the wrong time. We now know enough to locate the hubs that lead from our cluster, which appears to be very sparsely populated with terminals, to a more densely populated sector. The suspicion is that we’re more likely to find other species actively using it as we move in that direction, since there would be a higher likelihood of a terminal being in the system where intelligent life arose and started experimenting with space travel.”  
  
“We should probably also disable these two hubs here and here,” the EA minister of defense suggested, highlighting a pair of systems nearly a thousand light years away from Sol in opposite directions. “Based on your map, that disconnects this entire section of space from the network to a distance large enough to probably discourage idle planium-using species from wandering past.”  
  
“Presuming that the hubs aren’t in use, I agree, sir,” John nodded. “If they are, we could just remove the type one terminals leading to our sector, I suppose. We don’t want to cause problems for anyone using the network, after all. But in self defense, both of ourselves and them, it would be wise to make sure we minimize the possibility of accidental interaction at least until we’ve perfected shielding good enough to handle large quantities of activated planium.”  
  
“Is it likely that someone would actually _use _planium on a ship like that?” someone else asked with a slightly incredulous air.  
  
“Common sense would say no, but on the other hand if they don’t have WIMP technology, they’d be unlikely to realize how dangerous the stuff is,” John replied with a shake of his head. “And to be fair, outside some fairly unusual naturally occurring situations you’d be able to get away with it. Even so I wouldn’t be surprised to find that anyone using planium FTL drives occasionally lost a ship and never worked out what happened to it.”  
  
#However, offset against that there is the problem that the study of planium would inevitably lead to the discovery of WIMP fields, as planium _is_ dark energy and matter bound into a physical form,# Minerva, the IS AI, pointed out. #If a civilization was making extensive use of planium based technology, I can’t help thinking that sooner or later they would find out the hard way that planium could easily be destabilized to horrific effect.#  
  
“True. We’ve discussed that at length over the past decades,” John acknowledged. “It’s an interesting conundrum. If you start with WIMP technology as we did and accidentally encounter planium the result would vary from what actually happened to the possible extinction of your entire species. If you start with planium you should in theory end up with one variant or other of WIMP theory, and almost _certainly_ also produce an event that could be as bad if not worse. None of us can believe that we’re the only ones to ever discover WIMP theory, especially as planium would almost inevitably lead that way. But the problem there is why would you then end up using the damn stuff to base an entire galactic transportation network on?”  
  
He shrugged again. “We don’t know. There are still many questions surrounding the things which could take decades to find answers to, if we even _can_ find the answers.”  
  
“Maybe anyone using planium just doesn’t bother researching it, they just find uses for it?” Professor Vroland commented with a smile.  
  
John sighed, although he was smiling as well. “That would suggest a remarkable lack of curiosity,” he pointed out.  
  
“On the other hand, if they did research it and it went horribly wrong, perhaps the survivors, if they were lucky enough to have any, would then ban research in that field entirely.”  
  
Looking at the speaker, another EA scientist, John shook his head. “We simply don’t have enough information to do more than guess. It’s possible we’re working on a basis of anthropomorphic thought that isn’t shared by an alien species. Perhaps they _wouldn’t_ possess curiosity like we do. Or there might be something else at work. Regardless, we have to assume that anyone using this transport network is likely to use planium in some way, which means that their technology and ours are dangerously incompatible. The PDS team feels strongly that we need to restrict access to any system containing a terminal, set up a working group to extremely carefully examine such systems to find out if we _do_ have neighbors who use planium, and also ensure that any such neighbors can’t turn up unexpectedly for both our sakes.”  
  
“We do know beyond doubt that there are currently space-going aliens less than a hundred light years away, so it’s entirely plausible there are more out there,” IS Director Anderson put in. “I agree with Doctor Warden. We will update the survey protocols to interdict all known planium device-containing systems immediately and lock them out of the ship navigation databases until further notice.”  
  
Premier Clarke called for a vote on the topics discussed, which passed unanimously. “We are agreed. All known systems in the alien transport network will be prohibited destinations. The PDS research team will locate and remove terminals leading into our sector of space, presuming they’re not already in use, as a preventative measure. And we will set up a subsidiary of IS to investigate the network beyond our space to locate any current users of it, without making contact, so we can evaluate how much risk we would be at from them, and they from us. Thank you, Doctor Warden, both for your time and your expertise.”  
  
“It was, as always, my pleasure, sir,” John said, blanking the holo and sitting back.  
  
#The next item on the agenda is the suggested first contact with the alien species that was discovered last year to inhabit the system of the star HD1388. To recap the current information we have on them from cautious and discreet surveillance, they are an insectoid species who refer to themselves as ‘_Thranx,_’# Athena announced.  
  
An image appeared in the holo, showing a roughly one and a half meter tall insect-like creature that looked at first glance to be a hybrid between a praying mantis and a grasshopper, with eight limbs rather than the six of a true insect. It had large compound eyes with thousands of facets, a pair of antennae above and between them, and was standing on four of the eight limbs with the other four holding various items of equipment. Its exoskeleton was a quite attractive deep blue color, and there was something about it that suggested a lively intelligence, although no one present, human or AI, was entirely sure what that was.  
  
#Our probes have been monitoring the HD1388 system for the last six months, listening to their broadcasts and tapping their publicly available data feeds,” Athena went on. #From the information gathered so far we have learned a considerable amount about our neighbors. One of the first things we did was build a translation module, as a matter of priority, which was relatively straightforward although their spoken language is sufficiently complex that humans may have trouble speaking it directly.#  
  
Her avatar indicated the representation of the Thranx individual in the holo. #This is an adult male Thranx. The exoskeleton color in males is generally shades of blue, as you can see.# Another one joined the first, this one an attractive light violet color. #This is a female of approximately the same age. Females are normally violet. As they age, the exoskeleton darkens and converges to a deep purple color. Their original life span appears to have been approximately seventy Earth years, but like humans, their current medical technology has radically extended that to two centuries or better, in the last hundred and fifty years. They breed relatively slowly and manage their population well, and are also considerably less prone to internecine warfare than humans have traditionally been, so they appear to have avoided much of the unpleasantness we are still dealing with the repercussions of even today.#  
  
The holo changed to show a blue, white and green planet slowly revolving against a background of stars. As it turned, a thin thread could be made out on the equator, rising from the surface to a point far out in space, with several huge constructions wrapped around it and attached to the other end.  
  
#They are highly intelligent, at least on a par with humanity, and have in some ways an oddly similar background. Their home world is somewhat hotter than Earth was throughout most of our history although it’s not that far off what our environment is these days. The atmospheric makeup is nearly identical to Earth’s, with only half a percent more oxygen, and two percent more argon, at the expense of nitrogen, although the sea level pressure is somewhat higher at an average of 104 kilo-pascal. The gravity is almost identical as well. Their home world, the name of which in English would translate to ‘_Hivehom_,’ is a near twin to Earth, although with the ocean and land proportions almost reversed. There is one large continent with several smaller ones, the largest contiguous land area being roughly the size of North America and Africa combined. The polar ice caps are smaller, and the orbital distance to the primary is on average three percent less than the Earth-Sun distance.#  
  
“It sounds like it would suit us perfectly, and vice versa,” the CAS president commented.  
  
Athena nodded, looking at him. #Humans and Thranx could easily share worlds. Both species have similar dietary requirements, breath the same air, thrive in the same general temperature ranges, and evolved under almost identical gravity and solar radiation. They like it somewhat warmer, with higher humidity for the most part, while humans can tolerate considerably lower temperatures without the difficulty the Thranx would have. However there is a wide overlap in ideal environment where both species would feel comfortable. On Earth, the Amazon basin is nearly perfect for them, while on Hivehom there are areas at higher altitude where the temperature, pressure, and humidity are almost identical to southern Europe near the Mediterranean sea.#  
  
“So they’re physically compatible at least,” General LeBatelier, speaking for the first time, said in a thoughtful tone. “What about intellectually?”  
  
Athena turned to regard him. #They are intelligent, curious, sociable, and highly technologically adept,# she replied. #Their general technological level is somewhat behind ours, although ahead in some fields by one degree or another. They are excellent material engineers. The orbital elevator proves that, as it’s been in place for close to a century as far as we can determine, which means they’ve had a material structurally strong enough to sustain the load and the technology to build the thing for at least that long. That’s more than we’ve had until very recently as far as the material itself goes, although we could possibly have erected something similar that long ago given the right material to make it from. We appear to be further ahead with computing and spintronics, while they seem to have the edge in genetics and some other aspects of biology. And so on.#  
  
She scanned the room full of high ranking scientists and political delegates. #Without actually opening contact with the Thranx we can’t be sure how mentally compatible they truly are with us, but the limited data we have so far does suggest to everyone involved in studying them that they are likely to be considerably more so that one would expect from a completely alien species with a different evolutionary path. Even their sense of humor as shown through entertainment broadcasts we’ve intercepted shows a strangely similar attitude to the concept. The overall consensus is that opening a dialog with them is the next step. And most likely inevitable, as they are close enough to us that sooner or later they’ll bump into us anyway.#  
  
“On that subject, considering that they have a functional superluminal drive of their own, why haven’t they _already_ run across us?” another EA minister asked.  
  
Minerva glanced at the holo representation of Professor Anderson, who waved for her to go ahead. #As far as we can tell, they began exploring in the opposite direction when they first achieved FTL travel approximately seventy years ago,# she replied as Athena deferred to her. #It seems to be pure chance. They found a number of G2V stars between one hundred and one hundred and eighty light years further in towards the galactic core and would appear to have headed directly towards them in search of compatible colony worlds, rather than our systematic exploration of every star in an expanding sphere. Not having the TBT drive goes a long way towards explaining that, as they wouldn’t have the luxury of casually and quickly moving from system to system.#  
  
“But we’re easily within their range?”  
  
#Oh, definitely, yes,# she nodded. #Their FTL drive is capable of at least thirty light years per day, or at least the one fitted to the ships we’ve observed is. References we’ve located show that the first iteration was only good for about five light years per day at maximum, and generally cruised at half that to conserve fuel. They’re rapidly improving it and we project that they’ll be up to over a hundred light years per day within a decade. They could reach Sol in a few days now, and could have done it in less than a month at any time in the last eighty years if they’d decided to come this way.#  
  
#We also believe that their ships are far more expensive to build than ours are,# Athena added. #As a result they have a fairly limited number of them at the moment, although they’re pretty large for the most part. They’re currently using almost all of them for transportation between their colony worlds and Hivehom, with a few scouts exploring further in past those worlds. For reasons we’re not sure about they don’t seem at present to be interested in coming this way, although that will inevitably change sooner or later.#  
  
“I would like to point out that we _have_ to contact the Thranx,” John put in when both AIs stopped talking, causing everyone to look at him. “They are using WIMP technology. It’s not the TBT drive, but that posigravity FTL system they’ve designed still gives off a significant WIMP flux and it’s not shielded at all. They may well not know _how_ to shield it as the shielding technology is extremely non-intuitive, and not care in any case since WIMP fields don’t really interact with anything. Except planium...”  
  
Premier Clarke sighed audibly. “And they probably don’t know about that.”  
  
“Unlikely. It’s rare, after all, bearing in mind that all of it we’ve found so far is either the result of some ancient battles as far as we can determine, or in the form of transportation terminals. We know from the initial scans of the Thranx system there’s not a trace of planium in it, or in any of the adjacent systems either. The data on their colonies shows they’re also free of the stuff. But if they keep exploring in that direction, there’s a terminal system only about ninety light years away from their furthest world that they’re definitely going to find eventually. And when they do...” He mimed a massive explosion with his hands.  
  
“It won’t end well.”  
  
“And that’s assuming they don’t run into a planium-tech civilization either,” Professor Vroland remarked in a troubled voice. “_That_ could be a total disaster, and even an interstellar war in the making, depending on what happened.”  
  
“I’m forced to agree with Doctor Warden and Professor Vroland, Sir,” LeBatelier said after a few seconds of silence in the room. “We have the power to prevent a nasty problem for our neighbors and I think ethically we have to, regardless of our desires for contacting them for other reasons. Even if they don’t want to engage in dialog with us for some reason, we need to warn them about planium.”  
  
Premier Clarke thought, then nodded. “I agree. That alone is reason enough to contact the Thranx and introduce ourselves. The floor is open to suggestions as to how we proceed.”  
  
The next three hours were full of lively and at times loud discussion, mostly free of animosity. The Empire of Texas delegate stormed out half-way through, shouting insults, but that was so common as to be unremarkable and no one really paid any attention. He’d be back sooner or later like he always was and everyone would diplomatically ignore the faux pas, hoping that sooner or later the small but very irritating country would come to its senses.  
  
It hadn’t _yet_, but they lived in hope…  
  
Eventually, Athena called them to order. #All those in favor of establishing contact with the species known as the Thranx using the protocols we have been discussing?# She looked around as they voted. #We have a unanimous vote in favor. Director Anderson, please have your organization work with the CCF to put together a first contact team.#  
  
Anderson nodded, looking a little apprehensive, but interested as well.  
  
“I think we’ll take a break at that point, everyone,” Premier Clarke said, standing up. “We’ve covered a lot and I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m starving. We’ll reconvene for the afternoon session at two. Thank you all for your input.”  
  
John stood as well, turning when Zac Vroland stopped next to him. “Sounds like your grandson has started something bizarre again,” he commented with a small wry smile, making John chuckle.  
  
“He and his family do seem to have a knack for that sort of thing,” he replied. “I’m almost scared to see what they run across next.”  
  
“Well, one way or another the next few years should be interesting,” Zac laughed. “Come on, I need a beer. I’m buying.”  
  
“Fine with me,” John smiled, joining his old friend as they left the chamber.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
January 2116  
9.6 light years from HD1388, primary of Thranx homeworld _Hivehom_  
Onboard IS First Contact Group ship _We Come In Peace_**  
  
#Uh oh.#  
  
“What is it, Gort?” Lieutenant Sayana Takamatsu looked up from her research document, an idle operation of her n-link causing the displayed text to disappear from her sensorium, to stare at the ship’s AI avatar. It was the late shift and they were sitting a safe distance from the Thranx home world while waiting for a couple of diplomats to arrive in a courier, having been delayed by some sort of political emergency at home.  
  
#You know that transport ship that left the Hivehom system in this general direction about fourteen hours ago?# Gort said, sounding a little worried. She nodded, remembering the results of the discreet and diffuse network of probes they had in place around the insectoid alien’s home system well off the shipping lanes the Thranx seemed to use, keeping an eye on their neighbors.  
  
“Yeah, it was one of the older ones, right?”  
  
#Yes. It looks like it’s had a drive failure. The warp bubble popped about four light months away from where we are now. I was tracking it by the spatial distortion it left behind, using a new method the IAP came up with, and there was a surge of WIMP flux about ten minutes ago right on the predicted path of the ship.# He sent her a real time image. #I tasked a couple of probes to have a look. I think their posigravity drive blew out for some reason and took out their main reactor. The ship’s intact but their FTL drive isn’t happy at all. Looks like the fusion torch is fine, but that would take years to get home if they don’t fix the main drive, and I have no idea if they have enough fuel anyway. And we know their older ships don’t have FTL comms yet.#  
  
“Crap. That sucks for them,” Sayana replied as she studied the imagery. The front of the large vessel had what on the face of it was a wide, flat parabolic dish close to two hundred meters in diameter, which the main body of the craft sat behind in the form of an elongated ovoid nearly four hundred and fifty meters long. At the rear was a triple set of very big fusion drives, which she knew from reading the specifications they’d so far established for this class of ship were enough to give it a good hundred and twenty g of acceleration at maximum output. She wondered if their inertial dampeners were linked into the posigravity drive or were independent. If it was the former, they couldn’t possibly run the fusion drive at full power.  
  
Their distant probe zoomed in at a command from her to show the main dish, where the central mechanism that was the heart of the thing generated a gravity field nearly as intense as that of a small star a few hundred meters in front of the ship. This pulled the ship towards it, thereby moving the field, which pulled the ship, and so on. It was a concept she was familiar with as it was how humanity had moved Charon, but the Thranx version was even more powerful and was combined with other techniques to allow it to exceed c, which her own species had never figured out although they had been aware of the theoretical possibility a long time ago.  
  
Not as good as a blink drive, but then it was hard to think of something that would be, and humanity had got lucky with that in the first place. The Thranx drive was still very impressive indeed and had a lot of scope for improvement.  
  
Aside from this one, which looked like someone had kicked it with a size one million boot.  
  
“What the hell _happened_ to that thing?” she asked, staring at the twisted mass of machinery in the middle of the dish.  
  
#My best guess is that they had a positioning error with the posigravity field and it got too close to the emitter,# Gort replied after a moment. He highlighted some of the wreckage. #Looks like gravitational shearing more than anything else. The focused field is in the million-g range at a minimum, which would tear even Thranx alloys like tissue paper. I doubt they can fix that without a shipyard.#  
  
“Any chance their own people will look for them?”  
  
#I’m sure they will, and sooner or later they’ll find them, but that might take a while. And if their life support was damaged...# He trailed off.  
  
“Yeah. Fuck. Well, looks like we know who gets to meet us first,” she sighed. “Wake the Captain. She needs to know about this, and we need to tell home and get them to get those damn diplomats out here soonest.”  
  
Shaking her head, she stood and went for some coffee. It was likely to get very busy shortly.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Day 21 of Year 6935  
9.1 light years from _Hivehom _system  
Onboard interstellar transport _Rylix_**  
  
“… and I said, if that’s what you think, there’s no way I can_ explain_ it to you.” The speaker waved his antennae in a gesture of amusement. “He looked really confused, tried to argue the point, got even _more_ confused, and then just wandered off. It was hilarious.”  
  
His companion gave him a look. “You are one of the weirdest people I’ve ever met, Leyzen. Are you entirely certain you’re… you know… _sane?_”  
  
Leyzenzuzex snickered, waving a true-hand dismissively. “I’m certain. My clan-mother had me tested.”  
  
Hyltrorizex, his companion, looked at him even more dubiously. “I hesitate to suggest that the mere fact that she found that necessary is telling,” he said. “However...”  
  
Whatever else he was about to say was lost as an alarm sounded, causing both of them to whirl around and study the displays surrounding them. “Grav generator is fluctuating again,” Hyltrorizex said with a click of irritation. “I thought that was fixed in the last service cycle!”  
  
“It was, but this ship is getting old and has had a hard life,” Leyzenzuzex replied as he quickly typed a series of diagnostic commands on the main engineering console with all four hands, monitoring the result through his implant and his eyes. “The third-gen drives had an instability issue that no one has ever quite managed to eliminate, too. They work perfectly well almost all of the time but every now and then they get upset and go a tiny bit unstable. We’re due for a refit next year to a gen four unit that doesn’t have that problem but until then we just have to...” He prodded a control and the alarm stopped, all the posigravity drive instrumentation on the projected interface returning to normal.  
  
“...do that sometimes,” he finished triumphantly. “Again, I win. Take that, universe!” He raised both true-hands and crossed them in a gesture of glee  
  
“Yes. Very telling indeed.” Hyltrorizex flicked his antennae while Leyzenzuzex whistled amusement. “I can’t shake the feeling that your formative years were, just possibly, a bad influence on your development.”  
  
“My clan-mother said the same, for some odd reason,” Leyzenzuzex replied calmly. “And she blamed my grandfather for encouraging me. I can’t see the problem, myself. He’s brilliant.”  
  
“And someone who a number of people have always considered more than a little off too,” his friend said with a sarcastic tilt of his head. “Sure, he was the first superluminal test pilot, but that alone shows a certain lack of common sense, no?”  
  
Leyzenzuzex flicked the comment away with a gesture. “We prefer to think of it as brave and forward looking.”  
  
“The Zen family has a reputation that is well deserved,” Hyltrorizex said after a long moment, with a whistling sigh through his spiracles. “I am almost ashamed to be from the same hive.”  
  
“Don’t think like that, Hyltro!” Leyzenzuzex chuckled. “Think of it more like maybe I’ll rub off on you and inspire you to greatness! We do share genetics after all.”  
  
“_That_ is what I’m worried about,” Hyltrorizex muttered, gesturing almost unconsciously with one foot-hand in a motion to ward off bad luck, which caused his colleague to laugh again. A few seconds of work later, he added, “I’ve logged the report on the engine instability for the attention of the captain. Hopefully that’s our glitch for this run. If something goes wrong out here it’ll take months for anyone to find us. If they ever do.”  
  
“The next refit will add the new FTL comms system which should make this job a lot less boring,” Leyzenzuzex pointed out. “We’ll be able to keep up with the news from home, and even connect to the Hivenet.”  
  
“I am more interested in being able to call for help if we suffer a drive failure light years from home, you idiot,” Hyltrorizex sighed. “Keeping up on the latest reality holo is much less important.”  
  
“Can’t stand those shows. I prefer ‘_Stellar Exploration Team_.’”  
  
“Because you think there are aliens out there.”  
  
“Of _course_ there are aliens out there,” Leyzenzuzex stated, putting a note of surprise in his voice and gestures. “We can’t possibly be alone in the universe.”  
  
“If there _are_ aliens, where are they?” His friend looked at him seriously. “Remember the Drafraxetic Life Equation? It shows that if there is other intelligent life out there, we should have detected them by now.”  
  
“The Life Equation makes a lot of assumptions and most of the variables are complete unknowns,” Leyzenzuzex replied, turning his seat to face the other person. “At the time Drafraxetic came up with it we didn’t have the technology to even detect exoplanets directly. We know now that most stars have planets, and that there definitely _is_ life outside the Hivehom system. Look at Willow-wane, it’s nearly as prolific from that standpoint as home is. Which is why we settled there in the first place.”  
  
“True, but we still haven’t seen anything to show that _intelligent_ life exists somewhere else,” the other thranx pointed out. “Not even something that might evolve _into_ intelligent life any time in the next few million years. And we also know that FTL travel is possible now, which we didn’t in his time, so that also suggests that we should have had visitors at some point. If they existed. Even a slow FTL drive would let a species expand out into large areas of space fairly quickly.”  
  
“If they wanted to expand, and if their drive didn’t have some sort of problem that restricted their maximum range, and if they were close enough to us to reach us, and if they came up with FTL long enough ago to actually reach us at all, and...” Leyzenzuzex waved a foot-hand. “There are lots of reasons why there could be intelligent aliens out there who we haven’t found yet. Just because we _haven’t_ found them doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Maybe they’re watching us right now and don’t want to get involved with more primitive species?” He waved his antenna humorously.  
  
“I doubt that very much.” Hyltrorizex looked dubious. “It’s more logical to think that they’re not there at all.”  
  
“The universe is a very big place, Hyltro,” Leyzenzuzex retorted. “We’ve barely scratched the surface. They’re out there, somewhere. One day we’ll meet them.”  
  
“How do we end up having the same conversation every trip?” his companion grumbled, causing him to laugh a little.  
  
“Not much else to talk about.” Relaxing on his chair, Leyzenzuzex picked up a portable terminal and resumed reading his latest novel. “Unless you want to discuss the reports of sensor ghosts around Hivehom.” He slyly glanced at his friend. “Maybe that’s the aliens. They’re watching us with sneaky alien probes.”  
  
“Or, more likely, there’s a glitch in the sensor net,” Hyltrorizex replied with a long-suffering sigh. “Or, just possibly, someone is deliberately spreading rumors to troll people.”  
  
“Who would ever do something like _that?_”  
  
“You, for a start. I _know_ you, Leyzen. Your sense of humor is warped at best.”  
  
Leyzenzuzex merely made a mildly insulting gesture and kept reading. Both of them were quietly busy with their own tasks for the next few time periods. The engineering room was almost always boring except for occasionally far too exciting moments and they were long used to it. Except for routine instrument checks and logging the results, there was little to do until they arrived at Willow-wane in slightly more than six days.  
  
Which was why when every alarm in the system went off simultaneously they both shrieked in shock, diving for the console and getting tangled up in a mass of arms, legs, and abdomens. “Get off me you idiot!” Hyltrorizex shouted, pushing Leyzenzuzex to the side.  
  
“I’m_ trying_ to,” he snapped, heaving himself to all sixes, then frantically operating the controls. “Turn those alarms off,” he added harshly, “I can hardly think.”  
  
“_Engineering, we’re reading a massive drive fluctuation_,” the bridge officer on duty said through their implants. “_What in the Great Mother’s name is going on?_”  
  
“We’re working on that, sir,” Hyltrorizex replied even as he scanned the instruments, ordering the computer to run diagnostics at the same time, and shut down the alarms as well. Beside him Leyzenzuzex was doing the same on another system. Both of them were working as fast as they could. “Looks like another drive destabilization, but the secondary power array has failed completely this time. We’re going to need to shut the drive down before...”  
  
There was a horrible sound that made the entire ship vibrate, a lurch like nothing they’d ever experienced before which had both of them on the floor under their chairs again, and the familiar sensation of the warp bubble disappearing only far more violent than usual.  
  
“Oh no,” Leyzenzuzex whispered. “That didn’t sound good at all.”  
  
“_We’re back in normal space_,” the bridge officer said loudly over the sound of alarms in the background. “_The drive is reading… no, that can’t be right_.” As they picked themselves up for the second time, they could hear voices coming in from all over the ship over the comm network. “_We’re not getting any sensible result from the drive systems at all. Find out what’s wrong, I need to get the captain up here and deal with the damage reports. Any injuries at your end?_”  
  
Leyzenzuzex rubbed a bruise on his exoskeleton but after a quick check that it wasn’t cracked, glanced at his colleague who shook his head. “We’re fine, sir. We’ll investigate. Engineering out.”  
  
They looked at each other, both of them with their antennae drooping. “I think we’re in trouble,” he said after a few seconds.  
  
“That sure didn’t feel right,” Hyltrorizex agreed, poking around in the interface until he found the forward facing inspection optical camera sub-menu. A couple of commands later and they were looking at a holo of the drive emitter in complete dismay.  
  
“Um.”  
  
“Yeah. Um. We’re not going anywhere with the drive like that,” Hyltrorizex stated flatly.  
  
“No, we’re not.” They exchanged a glance, then started backtracking the logs to work out what had gone wrong and what, if anything, they could do about it.  
  
Nine time periods later they had an answer. “Well, we’re definitely not going anywhere soon,” Leyzenzuzex sighed, rubbing his true-hands together in worry. “The posigravity drive is scrap.”  
  
“What happened to it?” Captain Siltuzixta asked abruptly. He was not at all a happy thranx. None of the people gathered in engineering were. They’d called in all three shifts to go over the problem and seek a solution, and the entire command crew were also present.  
  
“The secondary power feed failed and the surge on the primary caused the pseudo-singularity to wander. The computer tried to compensate immediately, of course, but the amount of power required also shut down the tertiary feed due to overload, leaving the entire system relying on one out of three sources. There wasn’t enough power to keep things stable, but there _was_ enough power to keep the drive running until the gravity gradient was so high so close to the emitter it ripped the entire thing to pieces. That shut it down instantly, obviously, and collapsed the warp bubble in an uncontrolled manner,” Leyzenzuzex explained, showing them a diagram of the problem in the main holotank as he spoke.  
  
“There was a surge into the main power grid when that happened which also took out the inertics, but luckily the compensation frame didn’t decay completely until after we ended up in normal space or it would have pulped everyone from the shear forces,” Hyltrorizex added. “That’s what caused the jolt. If it had failed that little bit sooner...” He gestured resignation. “None of us would be here to complain about the rough ride. This ship would probably have survived but I can guarantee we wouldn’t have made it.”  
  
No one looked happy about the idea. Leyzenzuzex himself got palpitations of his spiracles when he considered how things _could_ have gone.  
  
“It would have been quick, if nothing else,” one of the other engineers commented, making everyone glare at her.  
  
“Not quite as helpful as it could be,” the captain muttered. He returned to inspecting the display, then looked at the one next to it which showed the real time camera view of the destroyed drive. “The big question is can we repair it.”  
  
“No.” They all looked at Leyzenzuzex who gestured in the negative. “Not a hope. The entire dish is warped slightly, most of the primary emitter is nothing but scrap metal, the rest is missing entirely, and none of the control and stability systems survived. It’ll need to be entirely replaced in a shipyard. There’s no way we can fix it ourselves.”  
  
“You’re certain?”  
  
“Yes.” He looked at Hyltrorizex, then around at the remaining engineering crew. All of them signified agreement.  
  
“So much for that. What are our options?” The captain looked around at his crew.  
  
“We’ve got enough consumables to keep us alive for at least four years in standard storage,” the second in command, Subcommander Xentinilnu, replied. “I’ve checked the manifest on the cargo and there is also a large amount of luxury food in it in stasis which would probably keep the crew going for another two decades at least, although we’d be very tired of ixli beans after a few years. Water is not an issue either, we’ve got all the fuel we’ll ever need to power the ship for decades, the secondary reactor is at one hundred percent operational capacity, and no one was seriously injured. Minor cracks in a few exoskeletons, nothing that won’t heal. And the medical bay is fully stocked and functional.”  
  
“On the other hand, our main drive is wrecked beyond repair, the fusion drives are fully functional and the fuel tanks are nearly full, but the inertics are offline and even if they were working it would take about twenty years to get back to Hivehom even taking relativistic time dilation into account,” Hyltrorizex pointed out. “We may be able to at least partially repair the compensators but I don’t think we can get them up to specification since several of the subsystems got slagged by the feedback from the drive failure. That would limit us to no more than half our maximum thrust, which would take even longer.”  
  
“Is there any likelihood of there being equipment in the cargo that would be usable to repair any of the affected systems?” Captain Siltuzixta inquired.  
  
“The manifest doesn’t show anything immediately useful,” Xentinilnu replied, making a negative gesture. “The engineering crew would need to go over it in detail to make sure I didn’t miss anything but I’m not hopeful.”  
  
All twenty-eight of them were silent for a little while, trying to think of what the next step was. “I suppose that when we don’t arrive someone’s going to come looking for us,” Leyzenzuzex finally said.  
  
“Undoubtedly, but that could take a long time, since all they can do is search along our course in the hope they happen to find us,” the captain sighed. “Sooner or later someone will find us I’m sure, but we may be in for a long wait.”  
  
“Is it better to sit here and wait, or head back?” someone else asked.  
  
“I’m not sure it will make much difference in the end,” he replied. “Before we do anything, though, I want a full diagnostic run on every system on this ship. I do _not_ want to find out that we had a failure we missed and something embarrassing ends up killing us. And when we _do_ get back I am going to have very strong words with the company about leaving unreliable drives in operation merely to save credits.”  
  
“To be fair I’ve never heard of this sort of failure happening before,” Hyltrorizex commented, lowering his antennae when the captain gave him a hard look. “It was a one in a million chance. At least.”  
  
“As the saying goes one in a million chances happen nine times out of ten,” Subcommander Xentinilnu quipped.  
  
“One in a million or one in a billion is irrelevant,” the captain said after another hard look at his immediate subordinate. “The fact is that it happened, so the chances were in our case one in one. I’m not happy about that.”  
  
There was a murmur of agreement. None of them were.  
  
They were still discussing the next steps to take when an alarm went off, causing Hyltrorizex, who was next to the relevant controls, to turn and look at them. Leyzenzuzex watched curiously as his friend’s antennae stuck straight up in surprise a moment or two later, then dropped in shock. “What is it?” he asked, causing everyone to stop talking and turn to look.  
  
Hyltrorizex was silent for a moment longer, then he turned to them with the oddest set to his antennae that any of them had ever seen. “There’s a ship out there,” he said faintly.  
  
“Already?” Captain Siltuzixta looked very surprised, as did all of them. “How did they know we were in trouble? Or find us that fast if they did?”  
  
“It’s not one of ours,” the engineer said in low tones.  
  
No one said anything at all for a long, worried few seconds.  
  
“Not one of ours?” the captain finally echoed.  
  
Hyltrorizex made a confused gesture. “No. I don’t recognize the configuration at all, and the sensors say it’s not made of any of the normal alloys. There’s no sign of a posigravity drive either although it’s giving off a low level WIMP flux, so they’re using some form of gravitics.” He looked at Leyzenzuzex as he said the next part. “I think that it’s an alien ship.”  
  
Leyzenzuzex felt both faint and excited, in a mix that made him slightly light headed.  
  
Another alert pinged. Hyltrorizex checked, then added, “We’re receiving a video signal from them. Standard ship to ship comms.”  
  
Everyone exchanged glances, then the captain, his antenna flicking nervously in a manner that was very unlike his normal stoic nature, said, “Put it through.”  
  
Somewhat tentatively Hyltrorizex prodded the correct control. The main holo display lit up with a scene that made them all stare in shock.  
  
“_Hello_,” the creature shown in it said politely, in perfect Low Thranx, while a small computer simulation of an adult of their species in the lower corner of the image performed the gestures that went along with the spoken words. Clearly this was machine translated, and the aliens had done their homework based on what Leyzenzuzex could see. His excitement level was getting to the point that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep standing.  
  
They were looking at, and _talking_ to, a real, intelligent, alien species!  
  
He desperately hoped they were a _friendly, _real, intelligent, alien species…  
  
“_I am Captain Jacolien Bertels of the ship named We Come In Peace. My species is known as human. We detected your ship has suffered a major drive failure and wish to offer our assistance._”  
  
Apparently the answer was yes. Yes, they were.  
  
Everyone looked at each other, then back at the face of what seemed, as incredible as it sounded, to be a sapient and space faring _mammal_ of all things.  
  
Eventually, Captain Siltuzixta took a deep breath, the sound of air through his spiracles the only thing in the room other than the very deep rumble of the fusion generator two hundred meters away, and replied, “Thank you for your offer, Captain. My name is Siltuzixta, captain of the cargo vessel _Rylix_, and we would be grateful for any assistance you can offer.” He paused, then added, “Forgive me if I sound confused. That is mostly because I am very, _very_ confused. We have a lot of questions.”  
  
The alien captain moved its face in a way that exposed teeth for a moment, in a gesture that from context generated by the simulated thranx avatar suggested mild amusement. “_I don’t blame you, Captain,_” it replied in a good natured tone. “_If the situation was reversed I expect I would as well._”  
  
“Excuse me for asking, but for my own curiosity are you male or female?” Siltuzixta asked tentatively. “Assuming it’s not a breach of protocol to ask and the terms are even relevant.”  
  
“_I’m female_,” Captain Jacolien Bertels replied, not sounding offended. “_Don’t worry, we understand there will be a large number of things you want to learn about us. Ask anything you like, we’ll answer as much as we can. Before that, though, is your vessel intact with full life support? We can’t detect any hull breaches_.”  
  
“We’re in surprisingly good shape all things considered,” Siltuzixta replied after a moment. His antennae showed he was still feeling a sense of disbelief, as they all were. “Although we’ve got a very long way to go without an FTL drive.”  
  
“_I think we can help you there_,” the human captain said calmly. “_Would you like to go to your original destination of Willow-wane or back to the Hivehom system?_”  
  
Captain Siltuzixta tilted his head a little and looked at the holo representation of the first non-thranx sapient ever discovered. “You appear to know a lot about us,” he said slightly suspiciously.  
  
The alien signified deeper amusement. “_We’ve been studying you for some time, Captain_,” she replied. “_In fact, this ship was intended as the first contact vessel between our species and yours. If we hadn’t detected your problem we’d have been approaching Hivehom about now, asking to speak to your leaders. But we’re not going to ignore a fellow crew in danger. Our ambassadors can tell you more, but please believe me that we mean you no harm and merely wish to open a friendly dialog_.”  
  
Leyzenzuzex nudged Hyltrorizex. “_Told_ you they were watching,” he whispered.  
  
His friend muttered something too quietly to make it out and ignored him with dignity.  
  
Half a day later, after much discussion, and a face to face meeting in the airlock between both captains, the first human ship ever encountered by thranxkind appeared halfway between Hivehom and the largest gas giant in the system, the _Rylix_ in tow. As dozens of inter-system craft quickly arranged themselves at the totally unexpected arrival, a message played on the public traffic control frequency.  
  
“_This is Captain Siltuzixta of the cargo vessel **Rylix**. We have made contact with a friendly alien species who wish only peace. They are unarmed and will comply with all traffic regulations. Their ship has two ambassadors aboard who would like to speak to our government at their earliest convenience_.”  
  
The message repeated several times. When it stopped, there was a system-wide moment of shock, then _everything_ changed…  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2403.6  
Citadel  
Private chambers of Asari Councilor Tevos.**  
  
“Gone?!”  
  
Tevos stared at the Salarian she was talking to. He nodded soberly.  
  
“_Gone. Normal survey of known dormant relays flagged that Relay 314 is no longer in the correct position. Was present last survey ten years ago. No damage to system, so relay not destroyed, but a search outwards to half a light year showed no signs of it. Unknown method used to move it. No eezo traces found_.”  
  
“How could it be _gone_?” She shook her head while her informant simply shrugged. “Moving a relay would take an enormous amount of effort, and the last time we know about someone trying, it caused a disaster. And why _would_ anyone move it in the first place?”  
  
“_Unknown_.” The scientist shook his head. “_But have heard rumors that one other relay missing from isolated cluster four thousand six hundred light years away from 314. Was detected by Quarian fleet a year ago, hushed up to prevent panic._”  
  
“I haven’t heard about that,” she said, staring at him. He looked a little smug.  
  
“_Salarians hear things_.”  
  
“Yes, you do, don’t you?” she muttered, thinking hard. “Who else knows about this?”  
  
“_STG only. And you. And me_.”  
  
“All right. For now, let’s keep it that way. The Quarians are right, if we tell people that two relays have mysteriously disappeared, people will get very upset. Upset people are difficult to deal with. Especially if they’re upset Turians.”  
  
Her contact in the STG nodded with an expression that said he agreed entirely.  
  
“I’m going to have to think about this. Keep me updated if you find out anything else. Your pay will be in the usual account.”  
  
“_Of course. Thank you_.” He nodded politely and disconnected, her omnitool going dark as the hologram vanished. Alone in her quarters, Tevos walked to the window and looked out at the Citadel stretching into the distance for a while, then raised her eyes to look at the stars beyond it.  
  
“Who is out there that we don’t know about who can move entire relays?” she mused to herself with a slight shiver. For some reason, the mere idea struck a nerve she didn’t even know existed up until a few minutes ago.  
  
For now, she couldn’t see that there was any sense in making a fuss. Public panic was always annoying to handle and this sort of thing could create rumors that would fuel hysteria. She’d talk to her own government very quietly and see if they had any ideas what, if anything, to do, while hoping that the Turians didn’t find out and get all… _Turian…_ about it.  
  
She liked them, she really did, but at times they were _such _a pain in the ass.  
  
Shaking her head, she turned away from the window and went back to her desk to dig out the one time pad. There were people who needed to know about the current matter.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
_Thranx Positive Gravity Superluminal Drive, commonly known as the '**Posigravity Drive**'  
  
The PGSD system was the ultimate outgrowth of research into gravity manipulation by a consortium of scientists on Hivehom over a period of close to sixty years, mostly funded by the Zex hive who traditionally have produced a larger than common number of physicists and engineers. The Thranx independently discovered and developed a Supersymmetry theory and Grand Unified Theory approximately eighty years before Humanity achieved the same, but took the work in a somewhat different, albeit related, direction. They never stumbled on either the principles behind the TBT drive or WIMP shielding, not having encountered planium which led to the latter until informed of its existence by Humanity in 2115.  
  
However, they mastered gravity manipulation considerably earlier than humans did, and took it to a level that humans did not. While the methods utilized to move the Charon Mass out of the Sol system bear a superficial similarity and some relation to the PGSD system the latter is far more flexible than the former, and unlike the human version, capable of superluminal travel via an intriguing variation on a theoretical method known to Humanity as the Alcubierre Drive. This design was never successfully built, and subsequent studies have shown that in its original form is not practical. There is some doubt to whether it is even possible. However, a variant of the method first proposed by Doctor Miguel Alcubierre in 1994 was derived by the Thranx scientist Ulszenzuzex in Hivehom Year 6812. It took another thirty years to produce the first successful working version, which had a maximum real space velocity of only 3.42 lightyears per day. Even this was enough to kickstart a program of interstellar exploration, which over the next century led to a number of Thranx settlements outside the home system.  
  
By the time of Humanity's first contact with the Thranx during the **Rylix **incident, state of the art PGSD drives were capable of up to 39.4 light years per day and improving rapidly. It was only due to the warnings about the dangerous interaction between planium and WIMP fields that disaster was prevented in later years...  
  
From '**A Guide to Superluminal Travel Techniques, second edition, Ganymede Technical Publishing PLC, 2143**'_


	5. Diplomats, Scientists, and an Engineer

**Day 24 of Year 6935  
Central Government Complex Level 42, Dalet City, Hivehom  
High Council Chamber**  
  
“The alien ship has been directed to a parking orbit around Dashaar, which they complied with immediately. The _Rylix_ has been towed to the shipyard and the crew taken to a secure location for interview. Initial investigations on the ship show that the drive suffered a catastrophic desynchronization event, which is a known theoretical flaw with that model of drive unit. No previous case is on record of the flaw leading to the damage noted, but it’s possible that at least one previous ship disappearance was the result of a similar event based on the event logs of earlier trips. We’re recommending that all third generation drive units be taken out of service and replaced with the fourth generation version as rapidly as feasible.”  
  
The speaker looked at his audience, which was comprised of most of the senior governmental and military members on Hivehom, along with three equivalents from Willow-Wane who had been on the homeworld for a meeting.  
  
“What information do we currently have on the aliens?” Kinzortifen, the current High Councilor, ultimate leader of the government, asked. She tilted her head curiously, her antennae showing interest and caution in equal amounts. “Clearly, based on their startling arrival and actions towards the _Rylix_, they are both possessed of very high technological levels and at least a certain amount of altruism.”  
  
Menjeflikon, the Councilor for Science, who had been making the report, waved a foot-hand in a gesture of slight uncertainty. “Their technological level is, at a minimum, equal to ours, but we are certain that at least in interstellar drive techniques they are far ahead of us. We also believe they are extremely advanced in synthetic intelligence methods and other computing fields. They have real time translation facilities that are completely fluent in Low Thranx, and use computer-generated avatars to provide gesture equivalence and recognition as their own language does not appear to make the same use of such things as ours do.”  
  
He checked something on his implant, glanced at the screen of the infoterminal he was holding in a true-hand, then went on, “The meeting with the _Rylix_ was largely accidental, we believe. It appears that they have been aware of us for some considerable time and have been carefully monitoring our systems, most likely watching ship movements and tapping the public Hivenet and other broadcasts. This implies significant abilities in long range sensing, or possibly low-observable craft and probes, most likely FTL communications, and in all probability a much faster drive method than our posigravity drive. They definitely do _not_ make use of a similar system, their ship designs are completely different, but they are also utilizing WIMP technology based on the gravitic readings our scans of their craft have detected.”  
  
“Why were they monitoring us?” another Councilor asked, making a gesture of suspicion.  
  
“They claim to be curious and non hostile, and so far their actions show both traits,” Menjeflikon replied with a twitch of his antennae. “We believe they have been systematically exploring outwards from their home world, which lies fairly close to Hivehom in stellar terms. The likelihood is that they simply discovered us in the process and have been watching to gain information and decide whether we should be contacted. In a preliminary interview with Captain Siltuzixta of the _Rylix, _he said that he felt that they were genuinely friendly and had gone out of their way to help him and his crew, purely because it was the right thing to do. He was impressed with their captain, having met her face to face and talked for some time. He was also at pains to point out that they could just as easily ignored the _Rylix_ and continued with their mission as it was originally intended, which would have left him and his people in a very precarious position.”  
  
His antennae showed amusement for a moment. “They made a number of friends in the process. Several of the crew were very intrigued by them, and one engineer is already asking if he can be on the first contact team.” He paused, then added in dry tones and with a resigned gesture, “He’s Ryuzenzuzex’s grandson.”  
  
“Ah,” High Councilor Kinzortifen said with a knowing tilt to her own antennae. “That is, I suppose, both in character and unsurprising...”  
  
“Indeed,” Menjeflikon said with a whistling sigh. “That family is… odd.”  
  
“But they have produced many of our greatest pioneers and scientists over the centuries, so clearly _something_ is working,” she chuckled.  
  
“If you call what they do _working_,” someone else mumbled, “that entire hive is warped at best,” which provoked a general wave of clicks of amusement and flicking antennae.  
  
When it subsided, Menjeflikon carried on, “Their captain said that their ship was in fact intended as a first contact vessel to begin with and was actually on its way here when they detected the _Rylix_ having difficulties while waiting for another ship to rendezvous with them. Without that delay, it’s possible they would have missed the drive failure and we would currently be wondering what happened to another vessel.”  
  
“What prompted them to introduce themselves at this particular point in time?” she asked with a slight gesture of curiosity. “If they’ve been observing us for years, they must have had some reason to pick now to open contact.”  
  
“We’re not yet sure,” he replied. “That is a matter we need to discuss with them. So far we’ve merely made sure their ship is somewhere we can keep an eye on it while keeping the public from getting involved, and dealt with the _Rylix_ and her crew. Beyond that will require some form of ambassadorial party of our own, we feel. The Science Council recommendation is that we appoint Academician Ziljinrytix as our scientific liaison, with a team of his choosing. An ambassador and other required political individuals is outside our field of expertise and we leave it to the High Council to decide what the next step should be.”  
  
He made a gesture of respect to the High Councilor and her staff with all four hands, then retook his seat. Kinzortifen looked around the chamber. “You have all heard the Councilor for Science’s report. Are there any objections to opening formal first contact protocols with the alien species?”  
  
One by one, each member of the government and military present signified assent with the motion and no objections to continuing. “Very well. We will proceed with selecting an Ambassador of our own, put together a research team based on the Science Council’s recommendations, and begin talks with our new neighbors. The Great Mother willing, we have made some interesting friends.”  
  
The next two days were more active in political terms than the previous ten years, and caused considerable confusion and conversation among both the government and the public. In the end, though, everyone came to consensus and suitable people were picked for the job, a move that in every case would be the highlight of their careers.  
  
After all, history was watching very closely indeed to see what happened next.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
January 2116  
Orbit of Dashaar, sixth planet of Hivehom System  
Onboard IS First Contact Group ship _We Come In Peace_**  
  
#Jupiter is better.#  
  
“Well, yes, I’d have to say it is, but that’s still a nice gas giant,” Captain Bertels chuckled. “As they go. Be polite, we’re guests.”  
  
#Oh, all right. I just think Jupiter is better, that’s all.# Gort snickered a little in her head, as they watched the Thranx shuttlecraft, a ship about a third the size of their own, approach. It was carrying the hastily assembled diplomatic and scientific teams the aliens had put together in just over six days, which was fairly impressive in her view. Her counterpart on the _Rylix,_ Captain Siltuzixta, had told her that the Thranx didn’t have a standing alien affairs department and would have to create one from scratch, which might take some time. Clearly they’d pulled out all the stops to get it done this quickly.  
  
She assumed there would also be military and intelligence assets in the nearing group, which they’d expected and planned for. They didn’t have all that much to hide right now and the plan had always been to be honest and as open as possible, and there was nothing on the ship which could cause problems that the Thranx could actually get at if it all went bad. If nothing else, they could blink home at will with no warning, and there was no effective method to prevent that.  
  
All in all they were about as safe as they could be. Having spoken to Siltuzixta, Jacolien was of the opinion that the Thranx were very unlikely to cause any trouble without severe provocation, which was backed up by their own data from years of remote study.  
  
The insect-like aliens weren’t prone to hasty decisions. They appeared to think things over rather more thoroughly than humans had tended to in the past, which had clearly let them avoid a number of the nastier problems her own species had inflicted on itself and its home world. Even now, close to a century after global sanity was restored, they were still paying the price of everything that had happened and would be for a long time. Without the revolution in basically everything due to the n-link, strong AI, fusion technology, and a number of other breakthroughs that had happened in the nick of time, the prevailing opinion was that by now humanity might have ended up extinct.  
  
An own goal to end all own goals, she mused. One she was profoundly grateful they’d managed to avoid.  
  
It was still going to take many decades to get the Earth back to what it should be. But with the Blink drive and all the other things that had come out of WIMP research, along with vastly improved medical technology as well as, again, AI, the species was already spread out enough in the nascent colonies around half a dozen stars that even if the worst happened someone could rebuild. Given another fifty years at the outside, there would be more humans on other planets than had ever lived on Earth even at its peak population eighty years ago.  
  
Not that anyone wanted to risk _having_ to rebuild. Which was why so much effort had been put into methods to deal with problems that could take them back to the bad old days before they started. So far, it seemed to be working, and as time went on, it would become steadily more effective.  
  
Human nature was difficult to change, but not impossible, given the right knowledge and impetus. Nearly wiping out the planet in a nuclear war that was only _barely_ aborted on top of massive and undesirable environmental change was definitely the right impetus, and the knowledge had come with time and vast effort.  
  
An ongoing project, but one that people were hopeful about.  
  
Adding a sapient alien species to it was going to produce some interesting results, though, she was fairly sure of _that…_  
  
Watching through her mindscape as the Thranx vessel gently drifted closer, the pilot very careful and skillful, she nodded a little as it stopped ten meters from their lower airlock. The matching one on the other ship was triangular, which seemed to be a Thranx thing, she assumed due to them evolving as a tunneling species and still tending to design their buildings and ships with considerably less headroom than most humans would normally prefer. Their species was built quite close to the ground as well, which would influence this sort of aspect of their engineering.  
  
It was a little surprising, given the very significant differences between their two species, how similar they were mentally. She’d read all the information available on the Thranx and even watched some of their entertainment broadcasts and, allowing for the species difference, found them perfectly understandable. And a couple of them very funny.  
  
Having a similar sense of humor, she thought with amusement, probably boded well for future relations.  
  
The Thranx ship very carefully closed on theirs, coming to a final stop under two meters away. #They’re maintaining position with a gravitic beam,# Gort reported. #Solid positional lock. I’m deploying the docking tube.# They’d designed a system to connect a standard human airlock to a standard Thranx one months ago, but this would be only the second time it was employed. While she watched the tube extended from around the lower lock, then shifted shape at the far end to match the triangular alien airlock. The tube neatly slipped into the relevant connector on the other ship, proving their design was correct, and latched in place. She saw a blue light come on next to the Thranx airlock, which was their equivalent of a human green one, presumably signifying that their ship was happy with the connection too.  
  
#Positive lock, handshake with Thranx system received and acknowledged. Both our systems are synced. I’m matching the pressure in our ship to their standard.# She felt her ears pop a little as their air pressure rose very slightly, but it was barely noticeable and well within human tolerance. #Just to be polite,# he added with a laugh.  
  
“Good idea,” she smiled. “Well, let’s go and meet our welcoming party.” She turned and headed out of the bridge, nodding to the crew on duty as the first officer took over, and walked towards the elevator to the lower deck. A moment later, a door to the side opened and Gort’s human-form avatar stepped out to join her. The ship AI didn’t bother with it most of the time, being one of those who preferred to remain disembodied, but he had it available for formal events where an entire star-ship turning up would cause problems at the punch bowl.  
  
She glanced at him, then said, “I like the hair color.”  
  
“Thank you,” he replied, patting his deep blue hair with a grin. “I thought I’d try something new.”  
  
“It suits you.”  
  
The pair kept going, descending four decks, then walking along another corridor for a hundred meters, finally arriving at the staging area with the lower airlock at the far end. Already present were Lieutenant Takamatsu, and the ship security officer Sergeant Mitch Gregson.  
  
Once, such a small delegation welcoming an unknown party aboard a ship would have been considered unwise. These days it was entirely reasonable, and if anything overkill. Even leaving Gort out of it, any of the other three could via their n-link connection to the ship systems bring to bear any number of self-defense measures, from concealed stun weapons through closing or opening any door or bulkhead in the ship to if necessary engaging the drive to simply run for it. They weren’t a warship, after all, and retreat was always an option. Unless their visitors decided on an all out assault, which seemed extremely unlikely for a number of reason, they were perfectly safe.  
  
Even if that _did_ happen the attackers would be fairly shocked to find themselves moments later sitting in a security area in a system thousands of light-years away with quite a large number of heavily armed and entirely unamused security people, both organic and AI, glaring at them.  
  
“Captain.” Takamatsu nodded respectfully, while the sergeant saluted. “The diplomatic party is ready to board, awaiting your go ahead.”  
  
“Tell them we’re ready, please, Lieutenant,” Jacolien replied as she stopped next to the other woman. Gort moved to the side, all of them watching through the external and internal cameras as their outer airlock door opened. Moments later the Thranx shuttle door also did the same, to reveal six of the insectoids, who peered into the docking tunnel with what looked like curiosity and possibly slight apprehension. Everyone on this mission had been fully briefed on the Thranx language and were running translator modules on their n-links, allowing them to read a surprisingly large amount of the alien body language.  
  
The Thranx made a considerably larger use of gestures and other body motions while speaking, and had more limbs to do that with, so replicating it exactly for a human would be almost impossible. However, the synthetic avatar method to produce the same result seemed to work well, certainly according to the crew of the _Rylix_ who had been quite impressed, and the overall feeling was that longer contact with the aliens could eventually produce a short-hand variant of their language. They were perfectly _capable_ of communicating with only audio, but the gestural additions seemed important in much the same way humans valued eye contact and being able to see each other’s faces. And, of course, humanity was very familiar with gestures while speaking, one only had to watch a native Italian-speaker being excited about something to see that, but they didn’t formalize it to the extent the Thranx had.  
  
While Jacolien idly pondered linguistical issues, she kept watching the Thranx diplomatic party, who had after a brief and quiet conversation, started along the short tunnel. The lead figure was obviously someone of fairly advanced age by the color of their exoskeleton which had darkened to a deep shade of indigo, although the alien seemed to move with the same ease as their younger colleagues. Immediately behind this person was another one who seemed to also be getting on in years based on the data they had on the species, and was slightly smaller than the lead one. The remainder of the party were clearly considerably younger, two of them males who moved with a certain air about them that made it clear to her that they were combat trained, although she wasn’t entirely sure why she immediately came to that conclusion.  
  
The remaining pair were a male and a female, the male one she was fairly certain she recognized. She had a good eye for detail and even though the Thranx were fairly alien to look at, they were familiar enough after both many hours of careful research and briefings, and personal contact. While they hadn’t met face to face, there had been quite a lot of communication with the stricken ship during the initial meeting. “I think that’s Leyzenzuzex, one of the engineers from the _Rylix_,” she commented, dropping a marker over the relevant person in their shared mindscape. The Thranx was looking around with apparent enormous interest, if his flicking antennae and quick motions were anything to go by.  
  
“He did seem very taken by us,” Gort commented with a chuckle. “I think you’re right. They may have decided that they needed an engineer to ask engineering questions, and wanted someone who was already known to be familiar with the weird aliens.”  
  
“Or they got tired of him badgering them about meeting us and just let him come because it was easier,” Lieutenant Takamatsu said with a wry grin. The slightly excitable insectoid had made an impression on them all…  
  
“Maybe. We can ask, I suppose.”  
  
“They’re in the lock, closing exterior door,” Takamatsu said a moment later. A few seconds after that, just long enough for them all to take their positions, the inner door opened.  
  
“Welcome to the _We Come In Peace_,” Jacolien said, bowing slightly to the six Thranx. “I am Captain Jacolien Bertels. It’s an honor to meet you all. It is our deepest wish that out of this initial meeting a long and fruitful relationship between friends will grow.” She made a gesture that approximated one of respect between two Thranx hives meeting for the first time, hoping she got it close enough despite the lack of two more arms for them to understand without feeling insulted.  
  
The elder Thranx in the lead paused for a moment, looked at the small stylized holographic avatar of one his species that was being projected next to her head via the ship systems, then returned something that was a pretty good attempt at a bow before correctly making the return gesture of respect. “Thank you for your kind words and the aid you gave to our people, Captain,” he replied. “Your grasp of our language is impressive, although you lack the necessary limb count to do it full justice.” There was a slightly amused air to the tone of his words and the motion of his antennae, which made her feel they’d probably get on all right.  
  
“I am Santhotuzex. I have the pleasure of having been appointed Ambassador between our two species.” He made a clicking sound that was a type of Thranx laughter. “It was something of a surprise, to be honest. My career goals never really included meeting a sapient alien species. My hope is that I can fulfill my role adequately, but I feel I must point out that we do not have experience of such situations and apologize in advance for any inadvertent insult I and my staff may cause while we get to know each other.”  
  
Jacolien smiled at him, a gesture he appeared to get the concept of based on his body language according to her n-link. The avatar undoubtedly helped, of course. “We will take no offense, Ambassador. We’re not practiced in this either, as you are the first alien species _we_ have met. I expect we’ll learn the rules together.”  
  
Santhotuzex made a gesture of acceptance. “As you say. Allow me to introduce my companions. While there are more people involved in this process than just the six of us, it was felt that we should keep the initial meeting fairly small to minimize confusion and delay.” He turned a little, the fairly rigid Thranx body not really allowing him the flexibility a human would have, and indicated the other elder with him, who had been listening intently and with obvious great interest. “Academician Ziljinrytix will be our primary scientific liaison during this initial period. He represents the Academy of Sciences on Hivehom, the most advanced research institute our species currently has, with a history spanning over fifteen hundred years since it was originally begun. He holds multiple qualifications in physics, superluminal travel mathematics, biology, and chemistry.”  
  
“An impressive range indeed,” Jacolien said, entirely truthfully. There were few humans who would have similar qualifications, which she surmised would be the equivalent of a Ph.D at least.  
  
“It is my honor to meet you and your people, Captain,” Ziljinrytix said with a complex gesture suggesting calm excitement and deep interest combined with respect. “I have dreamed of a moment like this my entire life, unlike Ambassador Santhotuzex. Although I will admit to also being somewhat surprised that it actually came to be.”  
  
The ambassador motioned to the two younger Thranx, both of whom were staring at the humans with what in their own species would probably have been wide-eyed wonder. Considering the enormous and oddly beautiful compound eyes, wide eyes was pretty much the default, but the wonder was definitely there, Jacolien thought with inner amusement. “You may remember Leyzenzuzex from the _Rylix_.”  
  
“I do indeed,” she replied. “Hello again, Leyzenzuzex.”  
  
The young engineer, after a pause during which his companion discreetly nudged him, quickly replied “I am very excited to be allowed to be here, Captain.” His antennae, which definitely gave some interesting insights into the mood of a Thranx, were flicking around like he was only barely restraining himself from asking _all_ the questions.  
  
“Leyzenzuzex was… enthusiastic… about the opportunity to learn more about your species,” Santhotuzex said with a certain wry tilt to his head. “We needed someone with practical knowledge of star-ship engineering, it was decided, and despite his youth he is one of our best.” He looked at the much younger Thranx. “Hopefully that youth will not lead him astray.”  
  
Suppressing a smile at the noticeably mildly embarrassed tilt to the antennae of the young engineer, and the clear amusement from his female companion, Jacolien replied, “If my understanding of Thranx naming is correct, he would be a distant relation of yours?”  
  
“Indeed. The Zex hive has produced a statistically unlikely proportion of our most talented engineers, scientists, and mathematicians,” the ambassador confirmed. “Young Leyzenzuzex comes from a long line of people who have changed our society in one way or another. One of his immediate ancestors, in fact, was the first superluminal drive test pilot. The positive gravity drive was also invented and developed mostly by the Zex hive. Alas, I have no such talents myself and merely became involved in politics and civic duty.” He motioned with a pair of hands in a modest manner. “Hardly the pinnacle of intelligence but work that needs to be done.”  
  
“I doubt you’d be here if your people didn’t think you were up to the job,” Jacolien commented, causing him to make a small whistle of amusement.  
  
“Hopefully they’re correct. Moving on, next to him is Fensoltulin, my aide. And finally our security detail, Subcommander Zimdibnotix and Sergeant Kaltinzinel.” Both the security Thranx made a quick gesture with one of their upper hands, what the species referred to as ‘_true-hands_,’ which seemed to be the equivalent of a salute. Jacolien nodded to them. “They are armed with stun weapons only. Is this acceptable?”  
  
“Certainly,” she replied. It seemed likely that the pair probably didn’t actually need to be armed to be dangerous. She hadn’t missed how they’d assessed the entire place the moment they’d come through the airlock, giving the same impression to her that some soldiers she knew did. “It’s unlikely in the extreme that they’ll need them, I hope, but our own protocols allow them to be carried for your protection.”  
  
Turning to her own companions, she said, “This is Lieutenant Sayana Takamatsu, one of our science officers, Sergeant Mitch Gregson, our chief of security, and Gort, the ship mind.”  
  
All six of the Thranx, who had been looking at each human in turn as she said their names, stared at Gort, who smiled back. #They seem surprised,# he said privately over the link.  
  
“You are… a synthetic intelligence?” Ziljinrytix slowly said, his antennae moving around in a way Jacolien hadn’t seen yet. At Gort’s nod, he added, “Fascinating. Truly fascinating. Your species can produce genuinely sapient machine intelligences. This is something that has eluded us for more than four hundred years of research.”  
  
“We don’t really think of them as synthetic, these days,” Lieutenant Takamatsu said, shrugged a little. “They’re just people to most of us.”  
  
“Extraordinary.” The scientist keep looking at Gort for a little longer, then made a gesture of respect. “I can see we have much to talk about.”  
  
“With that in mind, shall we go and meet our own ambassadorial team, sir?” Jacolien said with a wave to the door. “The ambassadors and their staff are waiting in the conference room a short distance from here. We felt it was best not to overwhelm you with numbers until you’d had a chance to come to terms with us.”  
  
“We appreciate the courtesy, Captain,” Santhotuzex replied. “Lead on, by all means. We are eager to learn more about you and what brought you to our home.”  
  
“If you’ll follow me, then, I’ll take you to them.” She turned and headed for the door, Gort next to her, with the six Thranx following. The two security people were looking around alertly, but seemed fairly relaxed considering what they must have found very unusual circumstances. It spoke well of their adaptability and training, she thought. Leyzenzuzex was also looking around constantly, his demeanor that of someone who was trying to see absolutely _everything_ at once. Academician Ziljinrytix was hiding it a lot better but she could see through the internal cameras that he was taking careful note of his surroundings. The aide, Fensoltulin, seemed slightly overwhelmed if Jacolien was interpreting her movements correctly, but dealing with it admirably.  
  
In the middle of them, the ambassador was strolling along like he had seen it all before, in a calm demonstration of his ability to stay focused.  
  
“This is a surprisingly small ship, Captain,” he commented after a couple of seconds. “Most of our interstellar vessels are considerably larger, and we thought it likely that such was probably a requirement for the task. Clearly we were mistaken.”  
  
“The _We Come In Peace_ isn’t particularly large, no, sir,” she agreed. “Just shy of one hundred and fifty meters long, a little under half the length of the _Rylix_. But then that ship is a cargo vessel as I understand it, and would be expected to be fairly substantial. Our drive system is also much more compact than your posigravity drive is, and doesn’t require the focusing dish.”  
  
“It’s still based on WIMP theory, though, isn’t it?” Leyzenzuzex said from behind the ambassador, sounding a little tentative. “We detected WIMP emissions when you initially arrived next to us. Does it use gravitics?”  
  
“Not as such, directly,” Gort replied, glancing back. “We do make use of gravitic systems of course, although not to the level your people have taken them to, but the TBT drive utilizes a rather different approach to superluminal travel than your system does.” He paused, then added, “We’re still very impressed with the posigravity drive. We were aware of the possibility of such a thing but never managed to make it work for superluminal travel.”  
  
Before the young engineer could start asking the questions she just _knew_ he wanted to, Jacolien interrupted, pointing at a door a few meters from them. “Here we are.” The door opened as they arrived, she and Gort going through and stepping to the side. All six aliens followed them in, stopping to regard the people in the room. She knew that all of them had been following the arrival of the Thranx since they’d docked, so everyone knew who they were, but she followed protocol. The Thranx didn’t know who the _humans_ were, after all.  
  
“Ambassador Santhotuzex, may I present Ambassador David Bowman, and his colleague Attaché Rachel Shepard.”  
  
Bowman, a tall man in his late sixties, who gave the impression of urbane intelligence, bowed to the Thranx party. “A pleasure,” he said with a faint Australian accent.  
  
“Thank you for meeting us so quickly,” Shepard added, with a small bow of her own. She was a compact but very lithe woman in her mid thirties with piercing blue eyes, who carried herself in an oddly similar manner to the pair of Thranx military people. Jacolien knew this was due to her former career in the CCF.  
  
Santhotuzex made gestures of respect to both of them. “We could hardly do otherwise,” he replied. “This is, after all, the most important event in our history.”  
  
“In ours as well,” Bowman smiled. He turned slightly to indicate the other people present. “Our scientific advisers are Doctor Taysir Almasi, physicist, Professor Katrine Lassen, biologist, Professor Alena Komrsková, historian, and Professor Rafael Melo, linguistics.” All four scientists were inspecting the Thranx visitors with great interest, but each made the human approximation of the gesture of respect, which the Ambassador returned. Jacolien got the impression he was enjoying himself.  
  
“Then we have over here Sub-Lieutenant Adriano Palermo, our drive systems expert. You have already met Lieutenant Takamatsu, of course.”  
  
Once the introductions had been performed and everyone has happy that all the protocols had been met as best they could be bearing in mind this was something of a unique situation, Bowman gestured to the set of chairs they’d fabricated to Thranx specifications, pulled from their public Hivenet. “Please, sit. I expect you have a lot of questions and we may as well be comfortable.”  
  
Ambassador Santhotuzex took a seat without hesitation, his abdomen and four legs fitting the odd-looking chair nicely. “Very good work,” he said with a motion of approval. “You have indeed done your research. Might I ask _how_ you managed to do that?” He indicated to the rest of his party to also sit, which they did with the exception of the security detail who took obviously practiced stances positioned behind him on either side. Jacolien and the others also sat down to one side, listening with interest and ready to answer any questions they were required to.  
  
“As you’ve probably assumed, we’ve been aware of your people for a while now,” Bowman replied. “We stumbled across the Hivehom system while surveying local stars as part of the IS mission, which has been tasked with a systematic cataloging of every star system we come across. It was essentially an accident that it happened when it did, as the survey team had gone somewhat further out than they’d been instructed to, purely on their own reasoning that this star was one that might be interesting from the standpoint of having possible life bearing planets.” He smiled a little. “They were more right than they expected.”  
  
Several of their visitors showed signs of amusement.  
  
“I expect it was something of a surprise,” Ziljinrytix commented wisely.  
  
“Yes. That particular team does have an unusually high rate of interesting discoveries. We’re more than a little curious to see what they do next.” Bowman grinned briefly. “Knowing them, it could be almost anything. However, leaving that aside for the moment, once we found that we had stumbled across another space going species that was almost next door, we began discreetly studying you, basically out of pure interest. We’ve had stories about meeting intelligent aliens for most of our written history, and probably before that, and we knew that sooner or later it was overwhelmingly likely to happen once we left the planet, but it was still somewhat startling. So we wanted to learn about you before officially meeting you.”  
  
“Tapping your Hivenet wasn’t particularly difficult,” Shepard added. “It’s logically designed and elegantly implemented. We arranged to discreetly position probes in your system for that purpose, and tracked your ships to Willow-wane and the other systems you’ve colonized. We were hoping that we could become friends, but if not, we wanted to be sure we could avoid your space.”  
  
The Thranx ambassador made a gesture of understanding. “This is entirely reasonable. I expect we may well have done the same had the situation been reversed.”  
  
“It could easily have _been_ the other way around, as you’ve had functional superluminal travel for longer than we have and we’re not that far away as such things go,” Jacolien commented. “It was pure chance as far as we can tell that you went in more or less the exact opposite direction.”  
  
“Ah. Interesting.” Ziljinrytix tilted his head. “How far away _is_ your home world?”  
  
“Approximately a hundred light years,” Bowman replied. “Your drive has been good enough to reach it easily for close to a century.”  
  
“An opportunity missed,” the scientist said, sounding amused. “But in the end it seems to have come to the same result.”  
  
“It would appear so,” Santhotuzex remarked. “I’m glad I lived to see it however it happened.” He looked around at them all. “With any luck, our two species may well find this day to be one we remember forever.”  
  
Bowman nodded. “That’s our hope. So, with that in mind, shall we learn about each other?”  
  
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” the Thranx ambassador replied with a gesture of acceptance.  
  
Very soon, everyone present was discussing human and Thranx history, science, politics, and any number of other subjects. Later, Jacolien would reflect on how strangely quickly both sides seemed to decide they had more in common than otherwise, relax, and talk to each other like they’d known one another for years.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Day 29 of Year 6935  
Orbit of Dashaar, sixth planet of Hivehom System  
Onboard human ship _We Come In Peace_**  
  
Leyzenzuzex couldn’t stop looking around with a sensation of awed near-disbelief running through him. He was on an _alien ship!_ Even though he’d been sure for most of his life that it was inevitable that there was intelligent life out there somewhere, he hadn’t honestly expected to ever meet it.  
  
And now he was standing in a room on an alien star-ship made by a species that had evolved a hundred light years away on a completely different world, a species that had only days earlier rescued him and his shipmates from at best a very long trip and at worst an unpleasant death. With the full backing of his own government, albeit with the comment “_Please_ try to restrain your enthusiasm. We would prefer to give the humans a _good_ impression of us,” which had been delivered in a sort of resigned manner by the Councilor for Science himself. Someone who appeared to have met his grandfather based on his mutterings as he left the room.  
  
Grandfather was going to _love_ this, Leyzen thought to himself. He’d sent a message but his relative was away from his home on Willow-Wane at the moment with no one sure where he was.  
  
He listened to the several conversations going on around him, doing his best to restrain his burning curiosity and not ask the hundreds of questions he had. He wanted to find out how their drive worked, and where they got their power from, and how fast the ship was, and what the maximum range was, and…  
  
Taking a slow breath, his spiracles whistling faintly as his lungs expanded in his thorax, he tried to calm down. There was plenty of time. It wasn’t like the humans were suddenly going to vanish. From what he could see, they were in it for the long haul, and being very careful to ensure that this first official meeting went as well as could be arranged. Santhotuzex, and the government, were working on the same basis, he knew. With the new species being so close, practically next door neighbors, it was vital that they get along, everyone agreed on that. While the human drive was clearly vastly faster than their own system, even the current posigravity drive was easily able to cover the distance in a matter of days, so both species could travel between each other’s homes without any true problems. Bearing that in mind, good relations were very important.  
  
He remembered the time on the _Rylix_ immediately following the shock of their initial contact with the human ship, right when they were trying to work out how to salvage a very serious problem. By the time that Captain Siltuzixta had finished talking to his counterpart on the other ship, and they’d run all the diagnostics they could to make sure there was no immediate risk to safety from something going wrong, the crew had mostly recovered from the shock of suddenly finding out for sure that they weren’t alone in the universe.  
  
Poor Hyltrorizex had spent quite a lot of that time wandering around looking stunned, Leyzen thought with inner amusement. He’d taken several opportunities to look as smug as possible, which had been _hilarious_.  
  
It was nice to be proven right, especially so spectacularly…  
  
When the oddly but appropriately named _We Come In Peace_ had moved very close to the _Rylix_, in preparation to giving the Thranx ship a ride back to Hivehom, no one had really known what to expect. It was clear that there wouldn’t be anything like the normal entrance to warped space, as their drive worked on different principles. The two ships had locked onto each other with gravitic beams, that part at least being fairly expected and normal, then…  
  
He still couldn’t believe it.  
  
The outside view had flickered and they were looking at the familiar sight of Hivehom at a distance of a couple of dozen planetary diameters, the space elevator clearly visible and identifiable. The entire trip had happened essentially instantly, like magic. There had been an odd sensation that he recognized as a WIMP flux interacting with a living mind, but it was very muted compared to the moment of superluminal warp entry when a posigravity drive crossed the threshold. Almost unnoticeable in all honesty, only his long experience of space travel letting him identify it. Other than that, it had just been a matter of suddenly being somewhere else.  
  
Leyzenzuzex could understand exactly why they called it a Blink drive.  
  
But it left him with more questions that he could even list. How far could it do whatever it was that it had done? They’d covered just over nine light years in a moment too short to be meaningful. Could it go further? All the way between the human world and Hivehom in one jump, perhaps?  
  
Further?  
  
He had no idea, but the more he thought about it the more excited he got. There were _so many_ _possibilities_ it made him dizzy.  
  
Again, he forced himself to relax before he exploded from tension. It took considerable effort.  
  
Turning his head, he once more studied the room they’d been in for quite a few time periods now, and the people in it. Ambassador Santhotuzex was deep in discussion with the human Ambassador, both their historian and biologist, and Captain Bertels. The AI Gort was also involved in their talk. Leyzen watched for a while, still stunned by the existence of a truly sapient machine intelligence, which was something they had a lot of fiction about but had never really come close to achieving. It was obvious that the humans were very, _very_ good with computers.  
  
And star-ship drives.  
  
He wondered what _else_ they were very very good with.  
  
Looking past the main participants in the discussion, he saw that Fensoltulin was carefully listening to it, while operating a data terminal on which she was making notes both with her implant and manually. The female was very quick and precise, he saw, and was able to answer the questions Santhotuzex asked every now and them with almost no delay.  
  
Academician Ziljinrytix was talking to the human physicist while their linguist and the other human diplomat, the female called Shepard, listened and occasionally interjected a point. The rest of the human contingent were scattered around the table transferring their attention to each conversation in turn, apparently easily able to keep up with all of them as he’d noticed that if anyone asked them something, they had an answer ready. He was impressed with their multi-tasking ability.  
  
Both the Ambassador's security detail were still positioned behind him, not having moved at all in a slightly worrying demonstration of military discipline, but were clearly listening carefully as well. He could tell just from the small motions of their antennae every now and then.  
  
Leyzen thought that Subcommander Zimdibnotix was probably rather more than a simple bodyguard. He was of a higher rank than one would expect for that role, and it seemed more likely that he was doing more than one job. It was quite possible, if not certain, that he was also an intelligence officer. That would certainly fit with how Leyzen understood this sort of thing to work.  
  
Glancing again at the humans, he pondered if they were aware of that. Probably. They didn’t strike him as being in any way slow on the uptake. But they were polite enough not to mention it if so, and were obviously going out of their way to be open and honest, which he thought was good. The Thranx prized honesty and it was a positive thing to see that apparently the humans did too.  
  
He really wanted this to work out for everyone. Whatever ‘_this_’ ultimately ended up being.  
  
Slightly lost in ideas of some future where multiple species worked together like in ‘_Stellar Exploration Team_,’ he almost missed his name being said.  
  
“Leyzenzuzex, I’m sure, would be more than interested in learning about your superluminal drive system,” the Ambassador commented, looking over to where the engineer had been doing his best to be quiet and respectful while the people who knew what they were doing talked.  
  
“Yes,” he managed to say as all the humans looked at him with their strange single-lensed eyes, which were oddly fascinating while being at the same time a little disconcerting. “I would love to find out more about it. I have...” He managed to catch himself in time. “…many questions,” he finished a little lamely.  
  
“I’m not surprised,” the human Ambassador said with a facial expression that the clever little Thranx holographic avatar near his head showed was meant to be reassuring. A ‘_smile_’ they called it. Leyzen was becoming used to how the humans used their ridiculously flexible faces to convey what his species used gestures for, although he was also surprised by how much of their own speech was accompanied by hand motions. It seemed to vary by individual rather than being a distinct part of the language, though. “We seem to have been leaving Mr Leyzenzuzex out of the conversation. My apologies.”  
  
Leyzen dipped his head and made a motion of respectful acknowledgment with his antenna. “No apologies are required, sir,” he replied. “I am not really important enough to be involved in your negotiations. I’m here to provide my insight if it’s needed.”  
  
“That’s understood, but we don’t want to leave anyone out,” the human said, sounding amused. His little avatar flicked its synthetic antenna. “I think we’ve covered the main points we wanted to as far as the politics of the immediate situation are concerned for this first meeting. Obviously you’ll all have a lot of questions for us about… basically everything, I expect, and we also want to learn more directly from the source, so to speak. There’s no hurry. We’re tasked to be here as long as it takes, and as long as you’ll have us.” He looked around at his people, and Leyzen’s. “We are certainly hoping that this is only the first part of a long and fruitful relationship between our two peoples.”  
  
“I believe we would also desire that,” Santhotuzex commented with a motion of good natured agreement. “We have learned much, but it barely uncovers the first layer, I suspect. There is much digging to go before we finish.”  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
The human Ambassador glanced at Captain Bertels, his colleague, then Gort. Leyzen got the impression that they’d somehow had a silent conversation, and wondered what their equivalent of an implant was and whether they all had one. “There is an important matter that we need to discuss with you now that we’ve broken ground as it were. A matter that could save a lot of lives.”  
  
Santhotuzex looked at him with a quizzical tilt to his antenna and head, while both security people appeared to suddenly be giving the human their full attention. “Oh? I am intrigued. Please continue.”  
  
“Gort?” Bowman turned to look at the synthetic intelligence, who nodded.  
  
A hologram appeared above the middle of the table, one of the best ones Leyzen had ever seen. The colors were a little muted, which might point to the humans not having the same color sensitivity that his species did, but the resolution was _superb_. He was impressed all over again.  
  
A rotating image of something that looked like a glowing blue mineral floated there as they inspected it. “This is a material we dubbed Planium based on the first location we found it in,” Gort said. “It is, in simple terms, a dark matter clathrate equivalent, which binds a huge amount of dark matter into a matrix of normal matter.”  
  
Leyzen stared in amazement. That wasn’t something he’d have thought was even possible. Ziljinrytix was also looking at the image with his antenna sticking straight up in surprise. “Dark matter in normal space?” the academician muttered in shock. “Extraordinary.”  
  
“And hideously dangerous,” Gort said, shaking his head. “The energy equivalent bound up in that material is many orders of magnitude higher than even a matter-antimatter annihilation reaction can produce. Our research has pegged it at just over three point five exajoules per gram if it is fully destabilized.”  
  
There was a moment of silence, then Leyzen felt his antenna drop limply to the sides. He could see that Ziljinrytix had the same reaction. Interestingly, so did both security people.  
  
“..._How_ much?” Ziljinrytix finally asked somewhat hoarsely, his body entirely still.  
  
“Three point five exajoules per gram. Approximately.” Gort wasn’t smiling at all. “There’s no high energy electromagnetic radiation release, thankfully, but there _is_ a vast amount of thermal output combined with a massive beta radiation spike, along with enormous gravitational distortions. If enough of this material is destabilized at the same time it produces a gravitational field large enough to create a singularity.”  
  
No one said anything for some time.  
  
“I sense that this is not a theoretical observation.” Ziljinrytix looked at the AI.  
  
“No. We found out the hard way, and were exceptionally lucky to have avoided any real damage,” Gort replied.  
  
“How does one destabilize this substance?” Ambassador Santhotuzex slowly asked, staring at the hologram. “And why are you mentioning it to us in the first place?”  
  
Gort glanced at him, then back at the hologram as it changed to show the image of an orange-beige planet, taken from some distance. “It can, unfortunately, be destabilized rather easily by a sufficiently large WIMP flux,” he replied, which made Leyzenzuzex stop breathing for a moment. “Such as that emitted by our first, experimental, superluminal drive.”  
  
“Or our posigravity drive,” Leyzen said, very quietly.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Captain Bertels indicated the hologram. “This is a recording of our first ever test flight of the drive system we designed, thirty one years ago,” she said. “It was a short hop from Earth, our homeworld, to Mars, the next planet from our primary. We had at the time several small research outposts there, as well as one fairly large one, and a station in orbit. The station recorded this.”  
  
Everyone watched as a pinpoint of blue-white light suddenly appeared on the surface of the planet, then expanded at a ferocious rate into a truly enormous roiling blue fireball that for a moment appeared to be on course to eat the entire thing. It reached far out into space, the view of the surface wavering around it in a way that suggested some serious spatial distortions were happening, reminding Leyzen of the visual effect of watching a ship go superluminal. The fireball expanded and expanded, until it finally paused, dimmed slightly, and began to recede, eventually dissipating into nothingness.  
  
What was left behind was a monstrous glowing crater on the surface which was almost white in the middle, it was so hot, and dimmed to orange near the edges. Little flashes started to happen all over the place surrounding it, moving further and further away, presumably from ejected material plunging back to the surface. He assumed that quite a lot of what hadn’t been vaporized immediately had probably reached escape velocity and beyond, leaving the vicinity permanently and turning into a navigational hazard rather than planetary surface.  
  
“The detonation released as much energy as a large asteroid impact,” Gort said into the appalled silence. “Luckily our outposts were all shielded by the planet, but there was damage from the shock-waves, and two satellites were destroyed in the explosion. The _Pathfinder_, our test ship, barely managed to escape, when the computer detected the initial stages of the blast and went to full power conventional drive before the pilot could react.”  
  
“We were worried it was the drive itself that had caused the problem,” Shepard remarked, all the Thranx looking at her now. “After a lot of research, though, we finally found out what really did it. We discovered trace amounts of planium all over the planet, fallout from the initial blast, and cautious experiments let us figure it out. It took years even so. We put a large amount of effort into long range scanning systems to locate the material so we could remove it. In the process we discovered this.”  
  
The hologram changed again.  
  
By the time the humans had finished explaining their research into the ancient alien base they’d found on their fourth planet, left behind by the Promethians as they’d dubbed the mysterious species, the discovery of an absolutely appalling amount of the ghastly planium substance hidden inside a moon on the outskirts of their system, the extremely cautious removal of the _entire moon_ to a position safely outside that system, its subsequent detonation…  
  
It would be safe to say that the Thranx party would have disturbed sleep for some time.  
  
‘_They destroyed a whole _**_moon_**_. Oh, Great Mother, these people are _**_insane,_**’ Leyzen thought with a weird mix of horror and admiration. ‘_And definitely don’t take half measures..._’  
  
He studied the detailed hologram of the huge machine that was slowly rotating in space above the table. “Unbelievable,” he whispered, making a gesture to ward off bad luck without conscious thought. “Whoever made those things must have been suicidal.” The humans had gone through their initial thoughts that the devices were weapons, a conclusion he thought entirely plausible based on their first encounter with the hellish substance that half-wrecked a planet with no warning, and all the way up to their current research showing they were actually part of some galaxy-spanning and impossibly ancient transportation network made by someone or something that was still unknown. And apparently left active, and simple enough that almost anyone who stumbled across it could use it.  
  
The entire thing sounded like the plot of one of the less plausible computer games he’d played as a young child, he thought numbly. But it was real, unless this was the single most elaborate hoax he’d ever even considered.  
  
He couldn’t see any reason at all that the humans would bother with a hoax. What would be the point? So it was almost certainly true, and they had just done his people a massive favor by warning them of something that would, sooner or later, have caused immense damage with no warning at all. The posigravity drive would definitely cross the threshold of WIMP flux density sufficient to make this horrible stuff go off at a significant range, and based on their data, there was at least one of these… gates… in a system that wasn’t very far from where their scout missions were exploring.  
  
It was entirely inevitable that in the end, Thranxkind would encounter one of the devices. And that this encounter would be disastrous.  
  
“We tend to agree, Leyzenzuzex,” Captain Bertels nodded. “Opinion is still divided on whether the device builders did in fact use planium as a weapon, or didn’t realize how dangerous it really is and just stuck to using it for transportation. Hopefully they only used it in these terminals, although we’ve determined that it _could_ be used to produce a superluminal drive of fairly underwhelming performance. Undoubtedly there are a large number of other uses one could apply it to if you weren’t bothered with the risk. Leaving aside the hazard of destabilization, which would make it totally incompatible with any technology based on WIMP theory without enormous and excessive care, it’s also highly biologically toxic as far as we have so far determined.”  
  
“None of _our_ people would want to be anywhere _near_ a ship that used it,” Shepard remarked, shaking her head. “And the thought of having it on a planetary surface gives me cold chills.”  
  
“I would agree,” Ziljinrytix said, finally breaking the appalled silence he’d been in since they’d started explaining about the planium danger. “And I must express my enormous thanks on behalf of the Science Council for you bringing this to our attention before we discovered the danger ourselves. You have undoubtedly saved lives. At considerable risk to your own people, as researching this material is not what I would call particularly safe.”  
  
“We did it at extreme range,” Gort remarked, expressing mild amusement. “Trust me, not even an AI wants to be anywhere near that stuff if we can avoid it. We may be synthetic in origin but we value our lives as much as any organic being does.”  
  
“Understandable,” Ziljinrytix replied with a gesture of acceptance. “You are prepared to pass on your research on this matter?”  
  
“Yes. That was one of the driving reasons for us contacting you at this point in time to begin with,” Ambassador Bowman said. “We knew that you were heading in a direction that led to one of the planium devices and would run across it in the end. There is also the problem that we have no reason to assume that the larger network isn’t in use by someone, somewhere out there. If it is, and either one of us happened across them, and it turned out that they_ did_ use planium in their ships, for example...” He made a gesture of his own that made it clear what he thought of the likely result of that potential encounter.  
  
Leyzen pictured it for himself, then tried to forget what he imagined the results could be.  
  
“That would be unfortunate,” Santhotuzex noted.  
  
“At a minimum,” Bowman agreed. “So we’ve been very carefully working on removing any inactive gate devices that would lead into a large section of space, which both our species lives in. Luckily we’ve determined that the network is sparse in this section of the galaxy for unknown reasons, and there are a limited number of connections from the local sub network into the wider one. We’ve identified two definite links and one more likely one, and suspect there may be a fourth based on partial data so far downloaded from the devices we’ve disassembled. As we download their databases, we’re building a hopefully complete map of the network, but our estimates are that we’re still missing about thirty percent of them at the moment.”  
  
“We devised a functional shielding method for WIMP flux that allows our drive to coexist with planium, and even transport it on board, although that’s always done remotely,” Sub-Lieutenant Palermo commented, causing Ziljinrytix to turn his attention to him. “It allowed us to move the devices with much less effort than the Charon one, although our researchers suspect that if one of the devices was actually _active_, it would still interact… badly.”  
  
With an internal sensation of worry, Leyzen thought that was a massive understatement.  
  
“Where are you moving them _to?_” he asked curiously, after a look at Santhotuzex, who motioned for him to continue.  
  
“We’ve established a hazardous research zone well outside the galactic disk for this work,” the Sub-Lieutenant replied.  
  
Leyzen felt his brain freeze.  
  
“Outside… the _galaxy?_” he managed to say, after a wheeze of shock. It took him a couple of attempts to get the words out, and his antenna were flipping around like he’d touched a live wire. “Your drive can do _that?!_”  
  
Ziljinrytix turned to Santhotuzex. “I believe we probably need to talk to the High Council at this point,” he said, sounding calm but obviously suppressing a lot of emotions based on his twitching foot-hands. “Our new friends have given us far more information than I personally expected, and I think we need more expertise on hand before we continue, especially if we’re going to have any more of these somewhat startling revelations.”  
  
Ambassador Santhotuzex looked at the hologram, which was now showing a very nice view of the galaxy, taken from far further outside it than seemed likely, with a ship clearly identifiable as a human one floating in the foreground. “I believe you may well be right,” he finally replied.  
  
“Too much, too soon?” Shepard asked, her own avatar emoting amusement and apology.  
  
Santhotuzex waved a true-hand. “We find ourselves more than a little disconcerted, I’ll admit,” he said with aplomb. “But that is to be expected under the circumstances, I suspect. This was never going to be a routine matter, was it?”  
  
The human female chuckled. “No, that’s true enough.”  
  
“Your openness with us has been most welcome,” Santhotuzex added. “It speaks well of you. I will need to confer with my superiors before we continue, and as Ziljinrytix says, we will need more of our team to discuss the various subjects that have come up.” He indicated the hologram with one hand. “Especially in light of that. I may be wrong, but I believe that it would benefit both our peoples if we were to combine forces on dealing with this problem.”  
  
“We are working on a similar basis,” Ambassador Bowman agreed. “If nothing else, we think our shielding technology is something we have an ethical duty to give to you, to allow you to make your own ships safe in the vicinity of planium. We are also prepared to arrange a transfer of data on our planium detection methods. We consider both of these a matter of public safety, in a sense.” He appeared entirely forthright about the whole thing, which Leyzen was amazed by, but also very impressed at.  
  
“In that case, we should return to our ship and make some calls,” Santhotuzex said, getting off the chair and standing up. Leyzen hastily jumped to his feet as well, while the remaining Thranx did the same. “Once again, thank you for your hospitality, Captain, and your honesty, Ambassador. I expect we will be speaking again very soon.” He made a gesture of respect to the room at large, as did the others. “This has been informative and helpful. May the Great Mother bring us all good fortune in our future meetings.”  
  
“I’ll take you back to the airlock, Ambassador,” Captain Bertels said as she and Gort stood and walked over to the door. Leyzen fell into place next to Fensoltulin and followed as the diplomatic party headed back to the tunnel to the shuttle, his mind whirling.  
  
He could hardly wait to see what happened next, and he had one _hell_ of a story for his grandfather when the older Thranx finally popped up again.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
February 2116  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
#Initial contact with the Thranx has gone far better than we could have hoped for,# Athena said to a silent room, humans and other AIs alike all listening carefully. #Our diplomatic mission has had great success in opening a dialog with them. While it took a little while for them to put together an equivalent committee, not having had the requirement for such a thing until we arrived, they rallied rapidly and remarkably professionally. Their Ambassador, Santhotuzex, is an exceptionally good diplomat and has been instrumental in the entire process, as have their scientific people. Our divulging of the planium problem definitely impressed them, as did our offer to share our shielding and detection technology. There has been a certain amount of mild suspicion from some quarters of their society as to why we would be so generous, but for the main part they are inherently more cautious than humans are, so that’s to be expected.#  
  
She looked around at the assembled representatives, then continued when there was no interruption, #Overall our people have impressed them, and been impressed _by_ them. As we expected, we were asked to provide proof of our data, which was easily done by taking a group of their politicians and scientists to the research area, showing them the work we’re doing on the planium devices, and also demonstrating the end result of a WIMP flux interaction with a small amount of planium.# She looked somewhat amused. #Completely destroying a large asteroid with half a kilogram of the material apparently made an impression.#  
  
There was a wave of laughter, then she went on, #We have had an unofficial request from the Thranx Science Council for cooperation on the planium device situation. It was delivered by Academician Ziljinrytix directly, bypassing their government, but appears to have the support of their own ambassador. Ambassador Bowman has requested that we debate the matter, and if we reach consensus, work on an official treaty we can offer them on merging our resources to deal with the remaining devices, and any other planium deposits either of our species encounters.#  
  
“Considering how recently we began talking to them, isn’t that rushing things rather a lot?” Premier Clarke asked quizzically. “I was under the impression that the Thranx tended to be somewhat slower in this sort of thing.”  
  
#In general, yes, that’s entirely correct,# Athena nodded. #They are definitely acting a little uncharacteristically in some ways based on our research. That said, we do know that when they decide to do something, they tend to put in the effort to do it correctly and efficiently. This particular revelation unnerved them a lot, and I suspect that they’re worried that they might run into planium without realizing the danger until it’s too late, so they’re taking immediate precautions. We do know that the accident onboard the _Rylix_ caused them to pull that entire drive series from active use within days, which is certainly working on an abundance of caution. We’ve likely triggered the same thing with what we told them.#  
  
“I can’t see that there’s a downside in agreeing to that, since we were going to give them the relevant technological knowledge anyway,” the EPA director of technology commented. “They could undoubtedly work it out for themselves in the end anyway, since all the data we have shows that they’re fairly close to us in WIMP theory, and very intelligent too. Yes, the shielding isn’t an obvious application, but _we_ worked it out, and I wouldn’t want to assume we could do something they couldn’t.”  
  
“Is there any risk this information could be used against us?” one of the representatives from the Democratic Republic of West America asked, sounding worried and a little paranoid. It wasn’t unusual from that part of the world bearing in mind their history. “Are we giving potential opponents some advantage we’ll come to regret?”  
  
Athena turned to him. #Our projections show that the Thranx are extremely unlikely to initiate any form of conflict with us, as they’re by and large quite peaceful. Yes, their history amply indicates that they can and have had internecine wars, but nothing on the scale of what our species did, and nowhere near the insanity of the Mad Years. Such a thing to them would be anathema. They are not a particularly expansionist people and have more than enough resources to satisfy their likely needs for the foreseeable future, even in the absence of the blink drive. And in our case, of course, our current society has passed the point where we’re likely to ever seriously be in competition with them for the same reasons. Compared to a century ago we simply don’t have any practical limits on either resources or space, which are the two overwhelmingly important drivers of conflict between two groups.#  
  
She glanced at the others, many of whom were nodding thoughtfully, or looking like they were thinking over her words. #In my opinion, cooperation with the Thranx is far more sensible than contemplating some vastly unlikely sequence that might bring us into opposition, or even ignoring them. We have more in common than we do otherwise, remarkably enough, and they may well have decided the same. I would advise that we continue down the path we’re on and see where it takes us. I’m not saying we shouldn’t have plans just in case something goes wrong, nor am I suggesting that we’ll never run into a hostile species with which we can’t come to an agreement, but I _am_ saying that all the evidence so far is that we have been extraordinarily lucky with our first First Contact. It would be best to seize the opportunity it presents.#  
  
There was a moment or two of silence, almost everyone in the room seeming to feel she had a point.  
  
“Thank you, Athena,” the DRWA representative said politely. “You make some good points, as usual. I withdraw my question.”  
  
#My pleasure, sir,# she replied with a smile.  
  
“Are there any other objections to the report and advice Athena has given us?” Premier Clarke asked, looking around. He sighed inaudibly as the delegate from the Empire of Texas, a short man who had been described fairly accurately as ‘_A ten gallon hat with a five gallon man trying to hide in it,_’ hopped to his feet. “The chamber recognizes Lord Alamo. You have an objection, sir?”  
  
“I do! Why are we wasting time talking to a bunch of insects? There are more important things we should be doing.”  
  
#More important than the first intelligent alien species in humanity’s history?# Minerva, the IS AI, commented acidly and somewhat incredulously. #May I ask what you had in mind?#  
  
“We should be establishing more colonies,” Lord Alamo said loudly. “What if something happens again? We don’t have enough people out there yet to be safe. The Empire of Texas once again demands our own fleet of ships, and a suitable planet to establish a colony to preserve our culture in case of a repeat of the Quick War.”  
  
“I trust you remember what actually _happened_ back then and who was responsible?” Premier Clarke asked mildly. The other man looked slightly embarrassed, but didn’t back down.  
  
“We’re well aware of the truth of the matter,” he said.  
  
Athena was looking a little dubiously at him, which seemed to make him more embarrassed, but she didn’t say anything.  
  
“We’ve been over this a number of times, Lord Alamo. The Empire of Texas has not yet satisfied the IGCC that it’s quite at the point where it would be… entirely practical… to simply hand over TBT drives to it. Considering certain events in the last decades… it could be politically slightly problematic,” Premier Clarke responded, picking his words carefully. Everyone present knew exactly what he was talking about, and no one was keen on giving the crazy EoTs star-ships. “However, you do have a point about more colonies. If your government would like to draw up a proposal to be placed in front of the full council at a later date, you have my word we will consider it carefully. But right now we’re mostly concerned with the ongoing Thranx situation and should probably stick to our agenda.”  
  
Lord Alamo appeared ready to say something else, but a severe look from Athena made him pale a little and sit down again. “That is acceptable,” he replied, making some notes on the archaic paper pad he carried around as part of his carefully cultivated image.  
  
“Excellent. Anyone else?” Clarke looked around. No one responded. “In that case, I propose that we discuss how we proceed along the lines Athena suggested, vote on it, then break for a recess before hearing the latest results from the PDST.”  
  
There was mass agreement, and the next couple of hours were filled with a lively but good natured debate. And for once, the Empire of Texas delegate didn’t lose his temper, but sat there and joined in, even coming up with some actual sensible suggestions for the first time in memory.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2402.5  
Quarian Migrant Fleet Exploration Ship _Tralket_  
Captain’s Office**  
  
“Captain?”  
  
Rael'Zorah turned to look at the person who’d spoken, putting his back to the reinforced porthole though which a vast expanse of stars could be seen, the edge-on view of the Core glittering with points of light and spectacular dust clouds illuminated from within. He’d been staring at it for nearly half an hour, lost in his thoughts about recent discoveries that had suddenly changed almost everything in ways he still couldn’t quite pinpoint.  
  
“Report.”  
  
“Our last probe came back a few minutes ago.” His aide paused, then went on, “There is no sign of the Relay. We’re definitely in the correct system, and it was equally definitely here the last time someone looked approximately twenty-three years ago. There’s no trace of debris, either, or any eezo emissions anywhere we can scan.”  
  
The captain looked at his aide for a few seconds, trying to work out what this meant.  
  
“An entire Mass Relay, just… gone,” he finally said softly, feeling worried. “I would have said it was impossible, but there it is. Or, rather, isn’t.”  
  
He prodded his omnitool and brought up a stellar map, then entered a long series of digits. His aide handed him an encrypted data unit, which he quickly downloaded the contents of, the effect being the symbol representing the Relay that should have been in this system changed color from yellow to red. Some more work made the projection zoom out to show the galaxy from above, with known Relays shown in violet if active and yellow if dormant. Colored planes separated the projection into the various spheres of influence of the relevant galactic powers, and those in turn from the much larger amount of space that was currently entirely unknown.  
  
There were a few distant Relays that had small volumes of space around them in various shades showing where expeditions had explored, but the bulk of the illuminated area covered only about half the galaxy at most, with large intrusions where there was no known route through the Relay network for access. He knew that although the supposedly explored amount of space was enormous, the actual number of systems in it that had ever been reached by any Council species, or non aligned one for that matter, was a small fraction of the total. People in general didn’t travel more than a perhaps hundred light years or so from a Relay unless they were desperate, or on some form of well-funded mission, normally military. Or, on rare occasions, incurably nosy.  
  
Which, he thought with dark humor, meant either his own species, the Turians throwing their weight around, or the Salarians being Salarians.  
  
The Asari didn’t generally bother with exploration for its own sake, at least in recent centuries, although a long time ago they’d engaged in that a lot, which was of course how they’d discovered the Citadel. These days they seemed more or less content to play their political games with the current system. The Turians _would_ explore but generally only if they saw some military advantage from the activity, which again tended to mean relatively short missions since otherwise the supply lines became prohibitively long and the costs excessive.  
  
The Salarians would, if they thought there was something that would be useful to find, go to considerable effort to extend their range, but even they would balk at a trip of more than a couple of months in real space. If nothing else it took a lot of resources and time to run a ship using normal FTL for that long, and that far, requiring frequent stops to discharge the drive cores. That required access to the right sort of star system, and while they were not uncommon it still took time and effort to locate one when you were in unexplored space, which was yet another limitation on long range missions. It could be done, of course, and Quarians were more aware of what was involved than probably anyone, but it was still a lot of effort for what could easily turn out to be very little gain.  
  
The Relay network was much more practical to use, suffered from none of these issues, and was vastly faster. He sometimes thought that once a species started to use it the inevitable end result would be a diminishing of the spirit of exploring for its own sake, which seemed in a sense a pity, but there was no denying it was a lot easier than doing it the hard way.  
  
Now, looking at the stellar map, he was wondering who was out there that was capable of moving, or possibly destroying, Relays. And why they were doing it.  
  
There was no way it was an accident. He could easily see that the missing one neatly isolated an enormous section of the galaxy from easy access through the network. The only known other Relay assumed to lead to that sector was well over four thousand light years away from their current position. It seemed likely that this was in fact the point, answering the question of ‘_why,_’ but of course without the answer to ‘_who_’ and ‘_how_’ there was no way to be certain this was true. He just couldn’t think of any other reason to engage in that sort of activity.  
  
“It looks to me like someone doesn’t want visitors,” his aide commented, causing him to nod slowly.  
  
“That’s certainly the most obvious interpretation of this,” he agreed. “I would be fascinated to know why.”  
  
“Perhaps they’re just very private?” the other man suggested.  
  
He snorted with laughter. “That is an enormous amount of effort to go to for privacy,” he replied. “Although I can’t say it’s impossible.” Zooming the projection to only show the inaccessible section of the galaxy, he slowly rotated it, peering at the stars that moved past. The database had enough information to show a vast number of them, but he was certain that there were at least as many more not visible. Stellar mapping over those distances, even from different viewpoints, was not trivial, and there would certainly be a lot of data missing.  
  
“Hundreds of thousands if not millions of cubic light years of space, hundreds of millions of stars, uncountable numbers of planets… close to ten percent of the entire galaxy, with no Relay route into it we know of, aside from this one, and another one all the way over here. What’s lurking in that space?” he said quietly. “And who...”  
  
Both of them were silent for a moment, watching the projection slowly turn. “I’m not sure I want to know,” his companion eventually said. He sounded disturbed. “Considering what’s popped out of dormant Relays in the past...”  
  
“Indeed. It’s possible that those Relays disappearing is a _good_ thing.” Rael'Zorah shivered for a moment, remembering the stories of the Rachni wars.  
  
“Possibly we’re jumping to conclusions. It may be that there’s an innocent explanation. Perhaps this Relay never existed and the catalog entry is mistaken, or located it in the wrong place,” he said after a moment. “We’ll check the two adjacent systems once we’ve discharged the drive core.”  
  
“And if we still don’t find it? What then?”  
  
He sighed. “I don’t know. We’ll report it to the Admirals and let them worry about it. We also will _not_ mention it to anyone else, or we’ll end up starting rumors that will cause no end of trouble. If the Asari, Turians, or worse the Salarians, hear about this, they’ll undoubtedly start poking around, and if someone genuinely _is_ capable of moving the damn things, I for one don’t want to see what else they can do.” Pointing at another symbol a considerable distance from the one marking the Relay they couldn’t find, he added, “The point to get _really_ worried is if that one vanishes as well. There would be no other explanation then besides someone inside this volume not wanting visitors.”  
  
“If it does get removed, however that is done, they’d pretty much get what they wanted,” the other man noted. “That area is far too large to explore with conventional FTL. It would take centuries.”  
  
“Yes,” he agreed, nodding slowly. “It also makes me wonder where they moved the Relays _to_. And whether they moved ones _inside_ that zone...” After a while, he shrugged. “We may never know, and we certainly won’t figure it out here and now. Wipe the probes, make sure everyone knows to keep their mouths shut, and head for the gas giant. We’ll discharge the core and set a course for the next system. We have to report back to the Fleet in eight days and we have a lot of work to do.”  
  
“Sir,” his aide nodded, then turned and left the cabin, leaving Rael'Zorah to contemplate the holo projection for a few minutes, before he turned it off and walked back to the porthole. Staring out of it he went back to his private thoughts.


	6. Humanity, A Report by the Thranx Science Council...

**Day 196 of Year 6935  
Central Government Complex Level 32, Dalet City, Hivehom  
Alien Contact Task Force**  
  
“Please explain to the chamber your findings on the alien species known as ‘_Human,_’ Academician Ziljinrytix,” Extranlutin, the leader of the hastily created group charged with assessing the benefits and problems of meeting intelligent alien life said, gesturing to the elderly thranx scientist who was patiently waiting.  
  
Ziljinrytix, who at over one hundred and twenty Hivehom standard years old would have been considered impossibly ancient even two centuries ago but these days thanks to the massive changes in gerontological research was at worst middle aged, moved forward a little and stood up straight. He was the leader of over three dozen scientists and analysts who had been studying their cosmic neighbors since that unexpected moment nearly half a year ago when the humans had come to the aid of the stricken _Rylix_.  
  
“Humans are fascinating,” he began, his antennae set in a confident but respectful position, as he gestured calmly with his true-hands. A command through his implant made the main chamber display come alive, displaying a typical male and female human side by side, with physiological data running down between them and slowly scrolling.  
  
“Physically they are a warm blooded viviparous life form with an endoskeleton, very similar in nature to animals we have here on Hivehom and that we’ve encountered on various colony worlds. They average approximately fifty percent higher body mass than our species, with a metabolic rate that is slightly lower and a commensurately lower body temperature. They have a large brain, and high intelligence coupled with remarkable durability and stamina. Unlike us, their circulatory system is easily capable of dealing with quite large amounts of damage, which may be the result of their outer layers being far easier to harm in the first place. Not having an exoskeleton, they are more susceptible to puncture wounds than a thranx would be, but conversely they can lose considerable blood without long term damage, and a wound that would be dangerous or fatal to us is only mildly disabling to them.”  
  
He indicated the display, which changed to show several more tables of data. “Their blood is iron based rather than copper as in our case, but the protein used for oxygen transport is surprisingly close in both structure and operation to our own variant. Overall efficiency is roughly the same, although they have more of their version than we do of ours and this is one of the reasons for their ability for prolonged physical exertion past the point most thranx would find themselves exhausted. Their own evolutionary theories posit this is due to evolving as a pursuit predator, which specialized in simply outlasting its prey rather than overwhelming it with strength or speed. Essentially, they could just walk after a fleeing food animal and keep going until it dropped from exhaustion, possibly days later.”  
  
He made a gesture of mild amusement. “In some ways it’s like something from one of the old horror stories, the creature that simply _won’t stop coming_. They themselves are well aware of this, interestingly enough, and even make jokes about it on their version of Hivenet. But there is a definite element of truth to the idea, both in their physical capabilities and their mental outlook. As a species, they are tenacious and persistent, with a very clear determination to keep going in the face of adversity until they either overcome the problem, or are themselves overcome.”  
  
Ziljinrytix cocked his head slightly, looking at the display as it changed again, to show a stellar system. “In many ways, despite the completely different physical makeup, they remind me of us. They exhibit most of the same properties we consider important. They are smart, inventive, curious, value family, respect life, and possess many highly admirable traits. That said, they also have a history of aggression and warfare which is somewhat disturbing and surpasses most of our own history in that respect. To their great credit, they have not attempted to hide any of this, being quite ready to talk about their darker side as much as the more admirable one. They are fully aware of their faults and work to reduce or eliminate them, in which they seem to have met with considerable success in over the last few decades.”  
  
The view of the star system slowly enlarged, moving inwards past several gas giants, one of which was surrounded by the most remarkable ring system anyone present had ever seen, to end showing a blue-white planet with a single large moon orbiting it.  
  
“This is their home system, the primary of which is a near-twin to that of the Hivehom system. There is only one currently habitable planet in their system, their birth world, which is most commonly known as Earth. It is again amazingly similar to Hivehom, with a slightly lower average temperature and a ratio of land to water tilted more towards the latter than we have. According to their data, Earth is considerably more tectonically active than Hivehom, or even Willow-Wane, and it also appears to have a substantially greater number of extreme weather events. This is due to the larger oceans for the most part, which drive an active weather system capable of producing storms of a truly extraordinary strength, far higher than we are familiar with except in very rare cases.”  
  
The view zoomed in more to show only the planet, which was slowly rotating. The projection changed to edit out the clouds giving only a view of land and sea. The land was a mix of deep greens through much paler green to several large areas that were various earth tones, clearly deserts. There was one large continent precisely on the southern pole which was mostly covered in a huge ice cap, and a much smaller ice cap at the northern pole in the middle of an ocean. Other areas showed glacial ice on high ground, including the majority of the middle of one large island in the northern hemisphere.  
  
As the globe rotated one way, the image turned the other direction more slowly so the view gradually drifted out of light into night. Artificial illumination could be seen almost everywhere, including vast areas of several of the oceans. Somewhat ominously there were irregular gaps in the lights in a few places, which stood out oddly against the overall background for reasons no one there could quite pinpoint.  
  
“Their environment ranges from temperatures at the southern pole in winter nearly cold enough to freeze carbon dioxide, up to ranges in the desert areas near the equator that are three quarters of the way to the boiling point of water. Humans can survive, albeit with artificial aid, the entire temperature range, although their preferred temperature is much closer to ours, perhaps a few degrees lower in most cases. They tend to like lower humidity as well, although again they can certainly handle anything we can in that respect even if they don’t enjoy it. Areas of their planet are near mirrors of our ideal environment and both Hivehom and Willow-wane have large zones which would fall exactly into _their_ ideal range. We are remarkably compatible species from many standpoints, at least physically. Both species have large overlaps in preferred temperature, atmospheric pressure, and humidity. We can easily eat the same foods and from initial findings in fact find each other’s food exotic and in many cases very tasty.”  
  
He manipulated the holo-display some more, spinning the globe and the illumination around to line them up, then setting the planet rotating again more slowly. “We even find a large overlap in sensory abilities. Thranx eyes have a wider field of view, higher color resolution, and a wider color space, as we can see in wavelengths both above and below those which they can detect. However, human eyes have on average a higher spatial resolution, and a lower minimum light level once fully dark adapted, and are more acute at long distance. Our auditory ranges match very closely, we can hear slightly higher frequencies and they can hear lower ones, but the difference is largely inconsequential. Their sense of smell isn’t quite as acute as ours, but is much better than one would expect of a species without antennae. They have superior sensation through the skin than we can manage, and excellent fine manipulatory ability, but having only two hands versus four negates a considerable amount of that advantage.”  
  
Ziljinrytix made a gesture showing resignation. “I could go on for some time but I believe I have conveyed the main points. Our full findings are available in a number of reports for later perusal. Each species has advantages and disadvantages relative to the other physically but most of them cancel out when taken as a whole. We come from entirely different backgrounds and evolutionary paths yet end up being oddly equivalent. This came as a considerable surprise to everyone, as we’ve always tended to think that alien life would either be much _more_ like us, or much _less _so. Interestingly, the humans have said exactly the same thing. They are as fascinated by the similarities and differences as we are. And they have been far more open about telling us anything we wanted to know about them that we might have expected.”  
  
He paused, picking up one of the standard drinking bulbs and squeezing a little water out of it through his mandibles, then replacing it. “In doing so, we have learned facts that are less pleasant. Eighty two of their years ago, or eighty nine of ours, they had a major planetary conflict they term the Quick War, which was a very short lived phenomenon in which nuclear weapons were used in anger for only the second time in their history. Their world was at the time formed of a large number of factions, close to two hundred of them, forming independent nations of various sizes, with widely differing economic and military prowess. As one can imagine such a situation is often unstable in the long run, and indeed only a century before that point there had been two major conflicts which encompassed the entire planet twice within mere decades of each other.”  
  
With a small gesture of sadness, he went on to a silent chamber, “Tens of millions of sapients died in each conflict, often in truly barbaric ways, and a number of extremely repellent ideologies rose and fell during this process. Their technological level increased dramatically over this period due at least partially to the impetus of war forcing them to continually improve their capabilities merely to survive. They went from largely using animals as transportation to primitive fission weapons in an amount of time that is less than fifteen percent of the time it took us to do the same. Impressive, if for the wrong reasons in a sense. Once the last major conflict was finally finished, they enjoyed an unusually stable period of history for nearly a century, although this was partly due to the major powers on their planet knowing that the next conflict could well be the last one since they rapidly built up a truly horrifying nuclear arsenal using both fission and fusion weapons. This ‘_arms race_’ also pushed them into primitive space travel in a ridiculously short period, a mere twenty four years separating the end of their largest war, fought largely with propeller-driven aircraft, to their first visit to their planet’s satellite.”  
  
He looked away from the projection to scan the faces of his audience, all of whom were listening with much interest and complete silence. “Unfortunately, this rapid technological advancement brought a number of major problems along with it, as it did in our case, but unlike with us it happened fast enough that they caused significant trouble before the issues were properly recognized. The reliance on fossil fuels in truly appalling quantities for nearly one and a half centuries produced major climatic changes, due to various forms of pollution, including major increases in atmospheric carbon dioxide and methane as well as a number of synthetic compounds used in industry. To be fair to them they were aware of this issue from fairly early in their technological cycle and took various actions to ameliorate it, but due to many factors these actions were not as effective as desired. Political ineptitude on the part of many leaders combined with the entrenched power of wealthy individuals and corporations slowed their attempts to overcome the problems that accompany industrial growth until it was almost too late.”  
  
With a shake of his head and a flick of his antennae, he indicated annoyance. “We are, of course, well aware of how this can come about. We had similar if much milder problems during our equivalent period centuries ago. However we didn’t progress at such a breakneck pace and therefore were able to keep up with the issue much more successfully than the human species was. That is one of the obvious differences between them and us; They do things far faster than we tend to. Certainly in their recent past they tended to do things _too_ fast and paid the price for not sitting down and thinking it through like a thranx would. It let them advance remarkably quickly, but they paid a heavy price for it.” He indicated the globe with one true-hand. “Ironically it was their Quick War that probably saved them from a much larger disaster in the longer term, even with the horrific casualties of the event.”  
  
The researched highlighted one dark spot on the right coast of a northern hemisphere continent. “This is what they refer to as the New York Dead Zone. It was where the strike that began the conflict happened. A fusion weapon of approximately two hundred kilotons yield was smuggled into one of the largest cities on the planet, which was at the time in a country that was technologically advanced and had for some decades been militarily one of the most powerful factions. It was nominally a democracy, although by the time of the Quick War, had undergone nearly ten years of what was in effect a low key civil war of sorts caused by competing and violently opposed ideologies. Records of the time are somewhat patchy for a number of reasons including damage from the war itself and the immediate aftermath of it, but in essence this country was made up of a number of interdependent sectors which were partially self-governing, with an overall government controlling the country as a whole.”  
  
He overlaid a series of colored areas on the continent. “By the point the nuclear weapon was detonated the entire country had been struggling with internal breakdowns in communications, civil infrastructure, medical facilities, economic systems; many people had found themselves violently uprooted on a number of occasions, large numbers succumbed to extreme weather events due to the climatic changes which were reaching a peak during this period. Large areas of the continent had been rendered barely habitable, ranging from desertification of the main crops areas over here to the west to the submergence of a significant percentage of the coast, including a large amount of this peninsula down here on the south east part. Nearly eighty million people were internal refugees in essence, and many of them headed to existing conurbations. This put even more pressure on the system which was already unable to cope.”  
  
Indicating another gap in the lights, Ziljinrytix continued, “A number of areas were almost abandoned due to environmental and economic concerns. This one went in a matter of years from a highly productive agricultural zone to near desert, with several large cities being essentially depopulated entirely. Crime levels rose across the entire country, and this process was mirrored in many other places.” Rotating the globe, he pointed at a couple of other landmasses. “This one, for example, was one of the most populous countries on the planet, but also suffered from the effects of sea level rise, combined ironically enough with a lack of fresh water. The problem had been present for decades but accelerated strongly in the years immediately preceding the Quick War. Further north was another highly populated country that was a major manufacturing center for the planet, and it also had not only water issues, but massive problems with environmental contamination that also coincided with the other factors.”  
  
He sighed a little, with a morose gesture, and drooping antennae. “In effect everything was going wrong at the same time, over a very short period. These were some of the driving factors behind the ideological upheaval that came to a head shortly before the first weapon was used. No one ever conclusively pinpointed who detonated the device, but it was later established that it was a weapon that had been stolen from the armory of the very country that it was used against. One of their military bases in another country aligned with the first one on the other side of the planet had been involved in a major political upset, and during that period forty eight so called tactical warheads were misplaced. The authorities on both sides covered up the loss, as they feared panic if the truth came out, and spent nearly fifteen years frantically searching for them. Unfortunately, they didn’t locate the devices in time, and paid the price.”  
  
Looking at the globe as it spun slowly, he indicated one darkened area after another. “Nineteen weapons were used before the people involved were stopped. All of them were smuggled into their target areas on ships or ground transportation, often years before they were detonated, all of the targets being among the most highly populated cities on the planet. It was a very carefully orchestrated global terror plan, by a group of nihilistic authoritarians linked to a number of organizations in multiple countries who had infiltrated the top levels of government and military hierarchy. Even now, there is debate as to what the true intent was, but the commonly accepted one is a nearly successful attempt to initial a global conflagration that would eliminate all those these people considered inferior to them for several reasons. It was appallingly close to successful. The humans got lucky and they’re very well aware of it. Over half a billion were killed by the nuclear explosions directly, and close to twice that again over the next decades due to fallout and all the other obvious effects of nuclear warfare.”  
  
“The end result, on top of global upheaval from climatic changes, sea level rise, increased tectonic activity caused by the removal of vast amounts of ice, ecological collapse and a number of other factors, totally changed the entire geopolitical landscape on a permanent basis." Ziljinrytix stopped the globe when it was back to showing the initial side. “The most powerful country on the planet was one of the main victims. It was utterly destroyed as a single entity and broke up into a number of smaller ones. The bulk of the northern area was ultimately annexed by the country to the north of it, at least partially as an act of mercy towards the inhabitants who were suffering badly from the breakup. The western zone here split into two countries, which fought a short war a few years later, ending in stalemate, then ultimately merging into one following widespread destruction caused by a major seismic event some time later. Much of the south eastern area combined with a number of small island countries and some of the ones on the south continent in this chain. And so on.”  
  
He turned back to his audience, who were all listening intently, some of them looking shocked. “It was a near thing, very near, but the humans _did_ recover, and in recovering reached new heights and a level of consensus they’ve never had before in their history. Combined with massive advances in fusion power, which gave them enough energy to begin to reclaim their planet, computing abilities, which ultimately led to synthetic intelligences that are truly sapient and even in the earlier phases allowed them to automate the decontamination of the irradiated zones, huge leaps forward in medical and genetic research due to pumping enormous amounts of resources into fixing the diseases and damage caused by the fallout… It all linked together to give them the impetus to completely uproot long established fundamentals of their society and fix many, if not most, of the ills that had plagued it for millennia. In a rather horrific sense, nearly wiping themselves out was the best thing that ever happened to them, although you will probably not find many humans who would wish to take that viewpoint. It’s still a somewhat raw subject.”  
  
Pausing his lecture while he took another drink, he looked around at the gathered scientists, politicians, and military experts. When he’d finished the bulb he put it down and resumed. “They have made enormous advances in psychological understanding, aided by their AI colleagues, and the result of that has been a society that has reformed itself and reduced if not eliminated many of the driving forces that led to the Quick War and what they term the Mad Years. An apt description in our opinion. Changes to their economic and political systems are still going on but for the most part they are more or less united for the first time in their history. They suspect that within another twenty years they will truly be a global civilization, rather than a collection of not always cooperative nations. The discovery of the TBT drive came at an opportune moment, helping drive this process, and also for all intents and purposes eliminating any resource or space limitations. Their full realization of first a unified field theory, then the WIMP theory that led to, has also unlocked an enormous number of other technologies just as it did in our case.”  
  
Once again, he stopped.  
  
“You paint a grim picture, Academician Ziljinrytix,” Extranlutin commented. “Have the humans genuinely overcome their startling ability to kill themselves, or is this likely to happen again?”  
  
Ziljinrytix flicked an antenna thoughtfully. “Our overall consensus is that it is very unlikely indeed, now. Perhaps forty years ago, it _possibly_ could have happened. However, now that they have sapient synthetic intelligences, the TBT drive, all the other advancements they’ve made so quickly… unlikely in the extreme. As a species they are much saner than they were, have repaired or are repairing a number of the major societal problems they had, and as I said have effectively no limitations on space or resources.”  
  
“Their drive is that good?” one of the military representatives asked curiously and with an intent look.  
  
Ziljinrytix chuckled, making a gesture of astounded respect. “You cannot _believe_ how good the TBT drive is. It is so far beyond our posigravity drive in range, speed, energy efficiency, and every other respect one can consider that even after half a year of studying it we are still having trouble accepting it. The consensus is that in one step the humans have probably invented the single most powerful drive system it’s likely possible _to_ invent.”  
  
He looked around at them all. “Understand this… They can go _anywhere_. Literally. The maximum range for an individual blink as they call it is currently restricted for a number of technical reasons to a mere two hundred thousand light years at most.”  
  
There was a wave of shock through the chamber, which amused him. No one seemed to have really _understood_ the reports his group had been writing…  
  
“Two hundred _thousand_ light years?” the military person asked faintly, his true-hands moving in a motion of incredulity.  
  
“Yes. I did not misspeak. They can literally go from any location in the galaxy to any other location in one jump, which takes a matter of microseconds. And the jumps can be repeated at a high rate. During their initial testing phase one test pilot decided to see if he could reach the Andromeda galaxy.” He looked at their waving antennae which showed disbelief. “It took him under eight time periods and sixteen jumps.”  
  
“Great Mother preserve us,” someone gasped.  
  
“Was he by any chance a member of the Zex hive?” someone else quipped, provoking a wave of amusement.  
  
“Not that I am aware of,” the scientist replied with a slight tilt to his head. “But that was essentially our reaction when they told us. In theory they could travel the entire width of the observable universe in a matter of half a million blinks or so. Finding one’s way home would become somewhat problematic at that point, which is one of the reasons they’ve restricted their exploration to closer to home in recent years. So far they haven’t lost anyone and they’re not keen on doing so. There are other reasons they curtailed the ad-hoc exploration and moved it onto a more formal and systematic basis, and have implemented a number of strict protocols surrounding surveying new systems.”  
  
“This substance they call planium, I assume?” Extranlutin glanced down at an infoterminal, as did several other people.  
  
“Yes.” Turning back to the hologram Ziljinrytix brought up another set of data, showing basically the same thing that the initial diplomatic team had been told about on the human ship. Everyone watched the Mars Detonation Event, as their visitors had dubbed it, the ones who hadn’t yet seen it going very still as the magnitude of the blast became apparent.  
  
“They are entirely correct that planium is hideously dangerous. We have been given their entire research database on the substance, which was extraordinarily generous of them,” he said when the first recording finished, the holo now showing various graphs and other data on planium itself taken from that dataset. “They’ve been studying the material for more than thirty years, and have learned a lot about it. Initially it was suspected that the aliens who appear to be behind its presence in their system utilized it as a weapon, which clearly is entirely possible. Just two hundred kilograms of the stuff left a hole in their fourth planet one could lose most of Dalet city in, which is a phenomenally vast amount of energy output, far outclassing matter-antimatter. That alone is one of the most remarkable discoveries any of us have ever heard of.”  
  
“Are they actually _using_ it as a weapon?” someone asked, sounding and looking perturbed.  
  
“No. We discussed that possibility and they rightly pointed out that the material is _too_ powerful to be usefully weaponized except in cases where you might want to be rid of an entire planet, or possibly star system.” Ziljinrytix flicked his antennae at the sound that filled the room for a moment. “I don’t speak in jest; it would be entirely plausible to utterly destroy a star system at least from the point of habitability with a fairly small amount of the material, on the order of a few thousand tons. The resulting singularity could also cause significant damage, even if it was not subsequently directed into the primary. The sheer amount of radiation emitted would be horrific.”  
  
He looked around at his audience. “The problem lies in the fact that the energy release is simply _too large_ to be scaled down in any practical manner. A microgram of it would have a yield in the class of a small nuclear device, and is an amount far too small to see. You would need to get down to picogram quantities to bring the energy release to levels that would be practical for most military operations and by then the amount of ancillary equipment required to detonate it would mean the resulting weapon would be both larger and far more costly than simply using more conventional methods. No one would find utility in a grenade-class weapon that could only be delivered by aircar and cost fifty thousand credits each, for example.”  
  
Making a gesture of mild resignation and amusement, he went on, “The amount of damage caused by anything other than a handful of atoms of planium reduces it to only being useful for destruction on the level of entire towns, and it rapidly increases past that point. There is for all intents and purposes no such thing as pinpoint accuracy and targeted threat removal with planium detonations. As Captain Bertels put it, it is a weapon which is inherently addressed to ‘_whom it may concern_’ rather than a specific location, even in minute quantities. Yes, it could very easily be weaponized. No, no sane person would wish to use it for that except in the most dire of circumstances, as there are far easier methods to deal with almost any conceivable problem. And the volatility of it in proximity to unshielded WIMP tech means that it’s effectively completely incompatible with both their technological base and ours. It would be much too risky to use except, again, in extremely rare and hopefully vastly unlikely scenarios, most of which would have considerably less damaging solutions.”  
  
“We are certain that this is real, and not some bizarre form of trick?” The question came from another one of the military people, who was looking both worried and very thoughtful.  
  
Ziljinrytix chuckled darkly. “Oh, we are most definitely certain, yes. I have seen with my own eyes a rather spectacular demonstration of that, and was allowed full access to the recorded data, and the use of our own instrumentation to verify the demonstration.” He glanced at the holo, which switched to showing an asteroid floating in the blackness of space, the entire galaxy laid out as a backdrop in a sight that made most of those present simultaneously produce a whistle of astonishment. “The humans set up a test area for planium experimentation a _very_ long way from anything valuable,” he added with a gesture of sly amusement. “Approximately fifty thousand light years above the north galactic pole, it turns out. Mainly because that was a good location which had the benefit of a nice view, they said.”  
  
The asteroid in the middle distance suddenly ceased to exist in a familiar roiling blue fireball, which expanded horrifically fast, dimmed, and faded, while around it various readings in the familiar low thranx written form rapidly changed. They showed the sheer size of the blast, which totally outclassed any warhead any thranx had ever designed by at least an order of magnitude. “The asteroid was some eight hundred meters in diameter, and the planium charge was roughly a kilogram. About the size of a _zilxin_ fruit.” He held his true-hands a short distance apart to illustrate his words. “There was nothing left but dust. They detonated it from over two million kilometers away with a coherent WIMP beam. That was as close as anyone wanted to go to the substance, and to be honest I fully agree with their assessment. It is far, far too dangerous to allow anywhere _near_ inhabited areas.”  
  
There was a long pause before the military representative who had raised the question swore under his breath, making a number of antennae wave in both agreement and amusement. “I understand the problem, now, Academician,” he said more loudly with a gesture of respectful thanks. “I agree, it is not a practical weapon for almost any common problem, and I would very much like to think that we could avoid any problem it _would_ be a practical weapon for.”  
  
“That _is_ the general feeling among both the humans and our own team,” Ziljinrytix replied with a tilt of his head. “But even leaving a putative planium weapon out of the discussion, the problem of the substance is a real and very worrying one.” He made the holo switch to an image of one of the planium transportation devices, which rotated slowly as it was disassembled into its component parts, notations appearing next to each subassembly. “The initial and extremely dramatic discovery of planium led them to design a long range detection method for the material, which they have steadily improved over the last decades into a system capable of scanning an entire star system at ranges exceeding a light year at this point. During the initial tests of the first generation of detectors they discovered what turned out to be one of these devices. At the time, due to not only the horrifically enormous amount of planium it contained but also the way it was apparently deliberately concealed inside the single moon of their outermost planet, they assumed it was a weapon. One designed to kill an entire system.”  
  
After a moment to let everyone absorb the images on the holo, he continued, “It was a reasonable assumption to make, in our opinion, and given the same data we would almost certainly have come to the same conclusion. There is simply too much planium in one place to make sense if you are aware of how enormous an amount of energy it will release when destabilized. Even at the distance the device was from the primary it could easily have sterilized every planet in the system, and quite possibly caused so much long term alteration to their orbital paths that in the end nothing could survive even if it was shielded from the initial blast. Which would require being on the other side of the primary at the time in the first place, since little else would suffice. They were horrified when they worked out how badly things could well have gone if they’d picked _that_ planet as a destination for their first superluminal test, rather than the fourth planet.”  
  
“I feel horrified by the thought myself,” Extranlutin replied faintly, gazing at the holo. “Am I reading that mass figure correctly?”  
  
“Yes. Somewhat in excess of sixty thousand tons of planium,” Ziljinrytix acknowledged, waving one antenna sharply. “If detonated in close proximity to Hivehom, Hivehom _wouldn’t be there any more_. The resulting singularity would be small enough to radiate a truly astronomical amount of evaporative radiation, while being large enough to remain stable for thousands of hours. In the case of the one the humans found inside the moon called Charon, when they disposed of it by dragging the entire thing half a light year from their system and deliberately detonating it, the result was the singularity absorbed more than half the mass of the moon. _That_ one is going to be stable more or less forever.”  
  
“They blew up a moon?” Someone on the other side of the room sounded appalled and impressed at the same time.  
  
“One thing you can most definitely say about humans is that they don’t lack imagination,” he replied with a humorous tilt to his head. “Given the problem of enough planium hidden inside a decent sized moon to kill their world, they invented a method to shield WIMP tech against it, and independently designed something not dissimilar to the posigravity drive, then towed the entire moon out of their system. It is an impressive achievement, especially as they haven’t taken gravity generation or inertial control to anywhere near the levels we have. At least partly due to them not requiring it for superluminal travel, of course. Their own gravity control systems are more than good enough for what they use it for, such as subluminal space drives and the like. They simply scaled that approach up to an enormous level.”  
  
“Towing moons… An intriguing concept,” another scientist not associated with his own team mused out loud.  
  
“Yes, we were fascinated by the idea and started researching it ourselves,” Ziljinrytix said. “We never really considered it before, but our own drive system is in theory capable of doing the same thing even more easily, and could be scaled up to a somewhat ridiculous level, once we looked into it. We’ve concentrated on optimizing the drive for superluminal speeds, but it turns out to be eminently feasible to optimize it instead for very large payloads at a lower level of acceleration. Given enough power, moving an entire planet would be completely plausible, as ridiculous as that sounds.”  
  
“I find it hard to conceive of circumstances where one would wish to move planets around,” Councilor Menjeflikon, who had been quietly listening to Ziljinrytix’s presentation, commented. “Although I am somewhat impressed that we could do so if required.”  
  
“It would need more research but it does appear possible, Councilor,” the old scientist said. “We have discussed the idea with our human counterparts and they were good enough to give us their own design notes on how they did the same thing, as they are very interested in our drive in any case.”  
  
“Why?” Menjeflikon asked curiously. “Their TBT drive is so much better, what use would the posigravity drive be to them?”  
  
“As they pointed out, there are times when a method to accelerate something in real space at the rates we can achieve would be useful,” Ziljinrytix responded. “Yes, for superluminal travel the TBT drive is superior to anything anyone can even imagine. But the main drawback to it, which is not generally a problem but it’s possible to imagine circumstances where it could be an issue, is that it conserves relative speed and momentum. The speed of a ship at the end of a jump relative to its local surroundings is the same as when it began the jump. The reason why this is so is far too complex to go over in this meeting, but we have a considerable amount of the theory worked out should anyone wish to look at it later. So, if one wishes to accelerate a ship to, as an example, one half c, one can’t use the TBT drive to do so. You would need a different form of drive. The humans use an artificial gravity system which is quite efficient but has nowhere near the acceleration the posigravity drive does. The end result is that our own system is capable of things they can’t duplicate, at least as easily as we can perform the same task.”  
  
“And presumably while they could, having seen our drive in operation, derive the characteristics of it and duplicate the functionality, it would be a considerable amount of effort that they could bypass using our own design data.” Menjeflikon looked thoughtful. Ziljinrytix made a gesture of agreement.  
  
“Indeed. I have little doubt that they could in time, simply by knowing it’s possible and having a very good understanding of WIMP theory, duplicate any of our own technology using the same methods. In the same way that I believe given some time we could do the same with the TBT drive, the WIMP shielding although that particular technique is much more complex than one might think, and the planium detection system. Knowing something can be done is at least half the battle towards being able to do it after all. However, that still leaves a very large amount of theoretical and practical work, which could be avoided by getting the design data directly from someone who has already achieved that goal.”  
  
He waved both true-hands in a motion indicating respect for the abilities of another. “The humans are decades ahead of us in their own fields, as we are ahead of them in ours. They do also have a major advantage in that they have sapient machine intelligences which undoubtedly give them a significant increase in ability, and of course their own resources due to the TBT drive dwarf anything we currently can bring to bear. Even so, it is well within our capabilities to catch up even if we don’t continue our contact with them, it would merely take considerably longer and be far more expensive to do.”  
  
Looking around at the assembled thranx, he added, “In the opinion of our group, and myself personally, failing to press ahead with some form of mutual relationship with humanity would be a mistake. They have much to offer us, and we have much to offer them. They have already, freely and without expectation of recompense, given us a warning of a hazard we would not have known about until it was far too late, a method to avoid it, and a method to detect it at range. I believe that further discussion with them could well lead to an exchange of information which would allow both of us to make significant improvements to our societies and our technologies. They seem open to the idea, and even though it is still very early in our relationship with them, the overall consensus is highly positive. I would urge the government to consider the next moves very carefully as they will, one way or another, bring profound and long lasting change to the lives of all of us.”  
  
No one said anything for a little while, although he could see they were all thinking his comment over. “However, we’ve drifted from the main thrust of this briefing,” he went on when he judged the moment right, seeing Menjeflikon glance at him with a look of consideration, although the Councilor went back to simply listening. “That aspect of the situation is beyond the Science Council remit. Returning to the planium devices, the humans did eventually discover more of them, as shown here.” He indicated the holo which was still displaying an exploded diagram of one of the alien machines. “They were ultimately able to carefully disassemble a number of them, and after considerable work, determine that they are actually transportation devices. Our report on the full capabilities of the machines is available for those interested, but in brief they are designed to allow a ship to be transported over distances of up to several thousand light years in only a few seconds, by utilizing the mass distorting effects of planium when energized by a sufficient electrical charge.”  
  
He made the holo change to a simulation of the process he was describing with a quick command through his implant. “They have not directly observed this process, not having so far located an active device and not wishing to deliberately activate a pair of them to experiment with due to the excessive risk of catastrophic failure. There is considerable reason to believe that their shielding methods for WIMP fields wouldn’t be up to dealing with energized planium in large quantities, although they’re working on a solution for that and I have little doubt will come up with one in due course. But they _have_ pulled a vast amount of information from the computer cores of the devices, after cracking the security, which in our opinion having gone over some of the information they provided is not of a particularly high level. The builders of these devices, whoever they are or were, are good engineers but unimaginative programmers.”  
  
“Is there any indication of who the designers of the machines actually are?” someone asked. “I see in your report a range of ages for the devices so far examined which seems… unlikely.” She sounded surprised, and her antennae were flicking about in consternation. “Half a _billion_ years? Is that even possible?”  
  
“Apparently, yes,” Ziljinrytix remarked with a motion of mild disbelief of his own. “We were shocked when they told us, but their dating methods seem sound. Some of the devices are much more recent, a mere few million years old...” His voice was rather wry at this, making several people chuckle. “...While one of them does indeed appear to measure in excess of half a billion years. The truly intriguing aspect of all this is that the design of the oldest unit so far found and that of the newest one are basically identical. They even have the same software installed, with only minor differences in the database of the locations of other units so far found. It implies that whoever it was that came up with these machines, they’ve been around for a very, _very_ long time. Leading to the question of where they are now...”  
  
Again, there was silence as everyone thought _that_ over.  
  
“I find myself somewhat uneasy,” Menjeflikon finally said, a cautious tilt to his antennae. “A species that has been building enormous machines based on something as hideously dangerous as planium for half a billion years but appears to be sufficiently shy that we have no idea who they are, where they are, and why they did it… Especially as this information suggests they went to considerable effort to ensure there were no clues to any of those points in their constructions, even while they appear to have deliberately engineered them to be simple to use by other people with a much lower technological level. While it could well be a magnanimous gesture of generosity out of public spirit, it could also have less salubrious reasons behind it.”  
  
“Based on a number of circumstantial items of evidence, such as the suspicious timing of several of the devices having been apparently last used some fifty thousand year ago, which coincides rather too closely with the time the alien base the humans located was last occupied, and the warnings they found _in_ that base, I would have to agree that there may well be aspects to the situation that are less than ideal,” Ziljinrytix acknowledged. “There is also the fact that the _only _planium discoveries that have been so far found have either been in the form of the terminals, the alien bases in the Sol system, and trace evidence from other systems that can be little else than the detritus from some form of battle between forces using planium for superluminal drives and possibly other technology, as dangerous as that would appear to be to us.”  
  
With a motion of puzzlement, he went on, “No planium has been found in a form that would suggest a natural source for it, such as an ore or the equivalent, and the humans are of the opinion that it is most likely artificially created to begin with. Statistically, even if it was created in very rare forms of stellar activity, over the lifetime of the universe enough should have been produced that it would essentially be omnipresent even if in minute quantities, but nothing of that nature has been detected anywhere they’ve looked, which implies something else is required. Our own study of their data agrees with their conclusions, and has come up with a tentative theory of how one might go about manufacturing it if one was sufficiently incautious to try. It would be extremely complex to arrange, the energy requirements are somewhat preposterous for a start, but it’s at least theoretically possible. But neither we nor they know if the other two alien species we know existed, and may still exist, did the same thing or whether they found a different source of planium somewhere.”  
  
No one responded, although he could see they were all thinking, and several data terminals were in operation as a few people made their own calculations. He resumed speaking after a moment, “The humans are fairly convinced that the aliens who built the base were hiding from, or running from, or actively fighting, another species, and may well have lost that fight as they appear to have entirely vanished as far as can be determined at the moment. The likelihood that their opponents were indeed whoever was responsible for the planium device network can’t be dismissed. It’s certainly sufficiently plausible that it’s one reason why the humans are carefully dismantling the network inside our general zone of space. Moving them far enough out of the galaxy that they probably wouldn’t be able to function even if they _were_ activated is a deliberate precaution, on top of the danger of the planium itself.”  
  
He motioned at the holo. “They’ve learned a lot about the devices, although there is still much research to be done. They strongly suspect that the network is probably still in use _somewhere_, although as I mentioned no active terminals have yet been discovered. They have a large part of the system mapped out from correlating the databases of the devices so far examined, but they think that there is still a considerable amount left to map. Our sector of the galaxy, approximately nine percent of the total volume, for reasons so far unknown is sparsely populated with the devices and shares only two to four links with the remainder of the galaxy. Outside this zone the density of them goes up quite a lot in many places although even then there are probably in total only on the order of approximately three thousand three hundred terminals, plus or minus two hundred. Since they developed a method to safely transport the devices to their extra-galactic test zone, they have been systematically removing the ones they encounter. To date eleven terminals have been moved.”  
  
“I would assume that developing an accurate map of device locations will allow that process to be performed more speedily?” Extranlutin asked, the task force leader seeming very interested.  
  
“That is the plan, yes,” Ziljinrytix agreed with a gesture from one foot-hand. “The initial discoveries were done the hard way, but now that they’re capable of downloading the device databases, they’ve been concentrating on locating the links to the larger network and removing them first. They are worried about another species that actually makes use of planium in a drive system accidentally encountering them, or us for that matter, or anyone else who might be in our sector and making use of WIMP technology. The interaction would be unlikely to end well. Once the local sub network is safely isolated the process of removing the remaining units can resume. Two external link systems have been dealt with so far, and they’re working on identifying any others.”  
  
“And the map they’ve derived so far is how they knew that our own explorations were headed directly towards a system containing a terminal,” he added, looking around at his audience again. “Which is ultimately what prompted them to contact us, aside from simple curiosity.” Changing the holo display to a star map everyone examined with interest, he pointed at one particular star. “The system in question is here, and was scheduled for a scouting mission in nine years. It is very likely, almost certain in fact, that the initial expedition wouldn’t have found the planium device. Which would most likely have resulted in a much larger expedition following up, as from what we now know thanks to the data the humans provided us, the system is one with two habitable worlds in it. It is conceivable that we might well have ended up with a colony in that system before anyone happened to get close enough to the terminal with a posigravity drive ship...”  
  
He could see from the drooping antennae that everyone got the idea.  
  
“In all probability their warning saved many lives in the future. For that alone, we owe them thanks.”  
  
After a short period of reflective silence, Extranlutin said, “Shall we move on from the planium threat for now? There are a number of other intriguing areas in your preliminary report we should discuss, such as their version of the data implant, and the ramifications of sapient machine intelligence.”  
  
“Ah, yes,” Ziljinrytix replied, commanding the holo to change to a different display. “Now, the human n-link system is _fascinating._ Understanding it is key to understanding much of their relationship with their machine intelligences and how they interact with their technology in general, and extrapolating into the future leads to some very interesting and slightly odd places...”  
  
Soon the entire room was listening to another lecture with interest and slightly stunned yet impressed respect for what their new neighbors were capable of. The meeting went on for most of the day, but no one present felt the time was in any way wasted.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
January 2117  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
Premier Clarke nodded as he read the latest report from the Hivehom diplomatic mission. “Excellent, indeed,” he commented. “I find myself pleasantly surprised by how logical and easy to deal with the thranx government is.”  
  
#They have been a united species for far longer than we have, and are inherently more inclined to cooperation than humans have been throughout much of our history,# Athena replied with a wry smile. #I suspect that’s at least part of it. We also seem to have impressed them with our openness and willingness to discuss more or less anything. They do tend to prize honesty, and we made a good impression right from the start. The _Rylix_ incident worked in our favor, if only by accident. I suspect things would have worked out similarly even without it, but it certainly helped.#  
  
“I’m just glad we were able _to_ help,” he smiled. “They seem like good people and I certainly would hope that if the situation was reversed someone would help one of _our_ crews if they had a similar failure. It would have been unpleasant for them if we hadn’t had a ship so close.”  
  
#Definitely,# the AI agreed. She looked at the data displayed in the shared mindscape for a moment. He knew she could absorb it much faster than he could, although with the latest updates to the n-link system, human and AI were getting steadily closer in abilities. #In my personal opinion I believe that even though it is still early days, the future of our two species lies along the same path. Academician Ziljinrytix certainly appears to believe likewise based on the conversations he’s had with our people, and he’s not alone in saying as much. Likewise, Ambassador Santhotuzex is taking the long view, which seems to require a close relationship between human and thranx. We are sufficiently compatible, and near enough in technological ability and level, that we would probably have little real difficulty in combining forces somewhat more easily than one would expect. I suspect that the next few years are going to be very interesting indeed.#  
  
“They do seem surprisingly open to mutual cooperation even this soon,” he nodded thoughtfully. “We have things they’re interested in, and they have things _we’re_ interested in. And they would bring a viewpoint that could lead to places we might not think of going otherwise.”  
  
#A certain amount of thranx caution would have helped immeasurably at various points in the not too distant past,# she pointed out with a mild smirk, making him laugh.  
  
“I can see that, yes,” he agreed, smiling. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if our human diving-right-in-without-thinking-it-through ability could have helped _them_ a time or two.”  
  
#I wouldn’t necessarily go _that_ far,# the AI snickered. #But I do think that if we eventually combine forces we’re going to find it a partnership that pays dividends. I only hope that the next people we run into are as friendly and compatible.#  
  
“You think we will find someone else?” he asked curiously.  
  
#It’s completely inevitable,# she nodded. #We already knew of the existence of two alien species before we bumped into the thranx, after all. It’s basically a certainty that there are more out there, possibly fairly close to us. Even with the TBT drive we’ve only explored a tiny, tiny fraction of just our local sector, never mind the entire galaxy. It will take centuries to investigate the entire thing even cursorily. And there are more galaxies in the observable universe than there are stars in our own galaxy...# She trailed off, as he shook his head wonderingly.  
  
“You know, even after thirty years of the blink drive, it still hasn’t really sunk home that we could in theory actually _do_ that,” he finally said with an expression of awe. “Explore not only our own galaxy, but others too. It’s… hard to wrap your mind around.”  
  
#Even I think that, Winston,# Athena replied with a soft smile. #The concept of infinite space is difficult for _any_ intelligence to truly grasp. The TBT drive opened up the universe to us, but it’s going to take a long time before we really understand what that genuinely _means_. I’m fascinated to see where that leads us in the end.#  
  
They shared a companionable moment of silence, before he shook his head. “Well, before we expand out into the universe, we have issues much closer to home to deal with. I suppose we’d better get on with it.”  
  
#Probably best to, yes,# she chuckled. #Most of the delegates are here or linked in, so we’ll be able to start on schedule in about ten minutes. Doctor Warden’s group has made some interesting new discoveries, and Director Anderson has a number of updates on recent IS activities. And, of course, we have the Empire of Texas’s proposal for an EoT colony world...#  
  
“Oh, lord,” he sighed as she looked amused. “Dealing with Lord Alamo is… hard work.”  
  
#To be fair, he does appear to have mellowed in recent months, and the Empire has made some unusually sensible requests in the last couple of sessions. The mere fact that they _were_ requests rather than demands is a positive step, one that we should probably encourage...#  
  
“Texans were crazy _before _the Mad Years, and they didn’t get any less so afterwards,” he grumbled, although his heart wasn’t in it. The small but argumentative country was oddly endearing even while it was immensely irritating. “I mean, an _Empire?_ How drunk _were_ they when they came up with that?”  
  
#Very, if the stories are to be believed,# she grinned. #The impressive part is that they managed to make it stick.#  
  
“I suppose so,” Winston agreed with a resigned sigh. “Oh well. As long as they can follow the rules they have the same rights as everyone else. We’ll see what Lord Alamo has to say this time. But if he screams **_YeeHaw!_** in the middle of the session like he did last time I’m proposing a vote of censure. It’s undignified.”  
  
Athena was still giggling when he left the private chamber for the main room, and he was smiling to himself.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
June 2117  
Planium Device Test Area   
Onboard IGCC Research Ship _Threshold_**  
  
#Yes!#  
  
“Yes?” Doctor Warden looked around at the ship’s AI avatar as he nearly shouted in glee.  
  
#Yes, I’ve cracked the last encryption layer on the device database,# Neils stated with a definite note of triumph and pleasure in his voice. #Tricky little bastard it was too. The builders of these things weren’t particularly inspired in some ways, but they did know their encryption algorithms pretty well. But it’s no match for a good spintronic array in the end.#  
  
“Excellent.” John smiled broadly. “Well done, my friend.” He glanced up as Captain Hirase came into the room, nodding to him. “Let’s download the remaining data, repeat the process with the other devices, and correlate the results. Anything interesting is useful but the main thrust right now is completing the network map.”  
  
#Working on it. Download of device Alpha in progress, encryption cracking of device Beta is… hold on… done. Gamma and Delta are nearly there, Alpha is fully downloaded.# Neils produced a complex display in the research mindscape showing the progress graphically. #Beta downloading, Gamma decrypted, Gamma downloading...# Only five minutes later he said, #Rho download compete. That’s all of them.#  
  
The research area now housed twelve planium devices, while the locations of some thirty others spread throughout the human/thranx sector were logged and surveyed although the devices had been left in place for the time being. Another twenty-eight were known to exist but hadn’t yet been exactly located, although the rough area for each was marked in the growing stellar map humanity had been working on for more than three decades, mostly as somewhere to avoid. Although the detailed exploration of systems surrounding Earth was still systematically expanding outwards, having so far inspected over twenty thousand stars, there were millions upon millions of them left, a task that would take a very long time to complete. Even if the thranx joined in on the task, something that seemed more likely with each update on that situation, it was still a truly massive task.  
  
Now, though, with the full data dump from the dozen units finally completed, a much fuller map could be produced and matched up to known locations, allowing all the remaining devices to be precisely determined. They could then be rendered safe for future travelers.  
  
All three of them watched as the galactic representation floating in their shared mental workspace rapidly sprouted points of vivid red light, each one representing one of the appallingly dangerous alien devices. When it finally stopped, the count stood at three thousand four hundred and seventy eight of the things.  
  
#Not bad, our estimates were very close,# Neils said with satisfaction. #There’s a better than ninety nine point six four chance that this is all of them, based on the statistical analysis of the databases, but it’s still possible there may be a couple of outliers out there somewhere. The most recent update to the database we’ve so far discovered was over six million years ago, so if whoever is making these things added some since then, it might not have been in our current dataset. They don’t seem to push network maps out through the network itself, although it’s technically capable of accepting such a process. I have no idea why as it would be the most efficient method.# His avatar shrugged. #Aliens, you know?#  
  
“Well, this is still a major improvement,” Captain Hirase, who had been watching and listening quietly but with intent interest, commented. “The survey protocols ensure we always scan for planium even if we know where it is, just in case, so we shouldn’t have any accidents unless someone goes a very long way out of their way to arrange one. Which _should_ be virtually impossible in theory, considering the number of safeguards there are now. Something I for one am very relieved about when I think what might have happened in the beginning when everyone was bouncing around all over the place going _wheee!_”  
  
Both John and Neils chuckled at his dry tone. “I seem to recall _you_ enjoyed yourself back then, Roka,” John said with a slight smirk. “How _was_ Andromeda?”  
  
“Spectacular,” the captain grinned. “Anyway, my youthful indiscretions aside, we have a lot of work to do now.” He examined the map, spinning it around and zooming in. “It looks to me like there are actually four external links to this entire region, unless I’m missing something. We’ve taken out this one and this one...” He made a pair of star systems a hell of a long way from Earth turn green, then indicated two more, “Which leaves this one here right on the other side of this entire zone, plus that one near the core.”  
  
#Correct, Captain,” Neils replied with a nod. #I can’t find any other connections between our local network and the rest of the galaxy.#  
  
“I still find the idea of a ‘_local zone_’ encompassing god knows how many million stars more than a little strange,” John said with a shake of his head in wonder. “And I helped _invent_ the TBT drive.”  
  
“Something we still feel gratitude for, Doctor,” the captain smiled. “You and your wife and everyone else involved have done more for us than any other single thing I can think of.”  
  
“I’ll mention that to her when I go home,” John snickered. “She’ll be pleased to hear it.”  
  
“How is she doing, thinking about it?” Hirase asked. “I haven’t seen her for… at least two years, I believe.”  
  
“She and her current research group are concentrating on a number of interesting possibilities surrounding some of the latest insights into WIMP theory,” John replied. “A number of the thranx scientists who have been talking to the diplomatic mission came up with an intriguing idea that could lead to one or more major improvements in the superluminal communications system, increasing the efficiency considerably, and her group is investigating that as well as some other fields. She’s also involved in the ongoing WIMP shielding improvement methods, which are looking promising.”  
  
“Our thranx friends are already causing a number of fascinating changes,” Captain Hirase mused. “And we’re still very early on in the entire process.”  
  
#They are an interesting species with much to contribute,# Neils put in. #It will be something to watch as time goes on.#  
  
“There’s talk of some form of mutual exchange program being sounded out at the moment,” John remarked. “Amusingly, it was suggested by both ends more or less at the same time. Great minds think alike, by the looks of it.”  
  
“That could be entertaining,” the captain nodded. “We’ll have to see what happens next. But for now, do we have enough data to allow us to deal with the last two external links?”  
  
#I believe so, Captain,# Neils replied. #We’ll need to inspect both locations before we proceed though.# He highlighted one of the two systems that contained planium devices connecting their sector to the outside galaxy. #The one near this K1V star is marked in the database as a point to point link, going to a hub system near the core over here. The other one is also a point to point version, but it’s clearly one link in a chain that leads around the galaxy about a third of the way. There’s a second one in an M2V red dwarf system a fairly short distance away, only about nine light years, which then chains over to another similar pair in the same system nearly one thousand and seventy light years further, which in turn connects into this much more complex hub over two thousand light years past _that_. If we take out this one, it breaks the chain and means there’s no connection to our space that doesn’t involve at least a twenty five hundred light year journey without the terminal system from the nearest exit point of the larger network. It might be even better to remove both the paired terminals to increase the distance even more, although if someone is using planium superluminal drives as we suspect might be the case, I doubt they’d fancy such a long trip to begin with.#  
  
“Sounds like a valid plan to me, Captain,” John said, after inspecting the AIs display. “I’d personally vote for taking out both to be safe, just in case. Neils is right, it would give us extra breathing room.”  
  
“Yes, I can see that being worth considering,” Hirase nodded, thoughtfully studying the data. “The systems themselves don’t look all that interesting either. A whole series of mostly red dwarf stars, and we know they often don’t have habitable planets.”  
  
“Habitable to_ us_ although we may find someone who thinks they’re exactly right,” John cautioned. “I would assume that the network builders probably put their terminals in such systems because they’re more stable over long periods than larger stars, although it’s not impossible that they evolved in that sort of place. We may never know. I’m more curious to know why some sectors have quite large clusters with lots of internal connectivity, then there are enormous gaps with only a few terminals making a link through them to another cluster. I’d rather have expected a more even distribution, but again we have no idea how they think from that point of view.”  
  
“Could be shipping routes, or they needed something inside those zones to actually construct the terminals, or some other perfectly reasonable explanation,” the captain mused. “Or, as you say, it could just be alien thought and it makes complete sense to them.”  
  
#Or possibly the network is so old that it originally _did_ have a more even distribution and over time either terminals were moved or damaged, leading to what we now see,# Neils remarked. #That seems equally likely.#  
  
“True.” Hirase thought it over for a few more seconds, then shrugged. “It’s not really important for our current situation. Maybe we’ll figure it out one day, perhaps we won’t. But it does make this sort of operation a lot easier. Once we get rid of that last pair of links, we can relax a little and take our time hunting down all the other units. Everyone will be a lot happier when there’s no planium lurking around ready to ruin someone’s day.”  
  
“True enough.” John nodded slowly. “The next move is yours, in that case, Captain.”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor.” Captain Hirase nodded to him, then turned to Neils. “We’ll have to clear it with IS first, but is there any reason not to proceed immediately?”  
  
#No, captain. We have the procedure down to a science by now. I’m preparing the probes and have alerted the crew, so as soon as we get a go-ahead we can begin.#  
  
Nodding again, Captain Hirase issued a quick command with his n-link. Only a few seconds later all three were looking at Director Anderson on Luna, nearly a hundred thousand light years away. The recently updated superluminal comms system wasn’t quite real time but it worked much better than the now obsolete ping-pong design that had been the first method they’d come up with that didn’t involve simply blinking home to talk to someone. “_Captain Hirase. How can I help you?_” the IS director said, looking curiously at them.  
  
“We’ve made a significant breakthrough,” Hirase replied. “Neils successfully penetrated the last encryption barrier on the planium device computer core and we’ve downloaded the entire database on all the units under study. We have an almost certainly definitive network map locating all the terminals, and have shown that there are only two remaining links to the larger network system.” Neils had been transferring the data in the background as he spoke, and only moments later the extremely distant IS director was looking at a copy of the map. His eyebrows rose a little, but he seemed pleased.  
  
“_Excellent work, all of you,_” he said after a few seconds. “_I’ll make sure this gets to the IGCC. I assume that you plan on removing those terminals immediately?_”  
  
“We can’t see any reason not to, Director,” John put in. “We’ve got the process working smoothly now and we can finish within the day barring any complications, which we’re not expecting. I think everyone will breathe more easily when we’re safely disconnected from any unexpected visitors, as unlikely as that currently seems. Then we can get back to the main job.”  
  
#_I’d have to agree_,# the IS AI Minerva said, her avatar appearing in the projected display. #_I would suggest that the terminal in the red dwarf system is also removed to be absolutely certain of success, though_.#  
  
#We already thought of that,# Neils replied with a smirk. She rolled her non-existent eyes at him but smiled a little.  
  
#_Of course you did, Neils_,# she said with long suffering patience.  
  
#Honest, we did!# he protested.  
  
“_You two can flirt on your own time,_” Director Anderson sighed, while Captain Hirase and John tried not to smile. “_All right, the operation is approved. All three units. Good luck, and try not to blow up a star system. It would be embarrassing_.”  
  
#We haven’t done it so far, sir,# Neils quipped, looking amused.  
  
“_Always a first time for anything_,” the man chuckled. “_IS out_.” The display blanked with a last wave from Minerva, then they looked at each other.  
  
“Better get to work, I suppose,” Hirase said.  
  
With that he left, Neils vanishing too, leaving John to sit and examine the new data for any insights he could derive from it. Even now he found the idea of studying ancient alien technology fascinating on a number of levels, although also somewhat frustrating at times. The way there was simply _no_ information on the builders in the computers, or anywhere else on the enormous devices, was both annoying and puzzling. The amount of resources required to make the things must have been huge and even more effort had been put into seeding them all over the galaxy, yet whoever was behind it seemed to have deliberately hidden any traces of who they were and why they’d done it. In the case of several of the units, they’d even hidden the things themselves inside moons of all things. He couldn’t shake a feeling that something very bizarre was at the root of the entire situation but what that was he had no idea.  
  
Eventually he turned away from that fruitless path of cogitation and resumed studying the much easier to understand data on the construction of the devices themselves, adding to the knowledge they were steadily building on planium and how it affected its surroundings. They’d learned a lot about dark matter and dark energy from this line of inquiry over the years and he was sure there was much more to unlock.  
  
He barely noticed when the ship blinked to the first terminal, only looking up for a moment at the by now so familiar it was hardly noticeable sensation of WIMP flux passing through everything in the ship. Then he went back to his work.  
  
The next couple of hours passed normally, careful surveys being done to set up the transfer of the inactive device, which was floating in space in a distant orbit of the primary as per the usual process, until Neils announced over the ship-wide n-link, #Transfer procedure holding at ten seconds. TBT drive unit reports ready status, reactors nominal, capacitors charged, destination set. All personnel to duty stations. Initiation of transfer awaiting final go command.#  
  
“Go is authorized,” Captain Hirase replied, everyone on the ship hearing him and most of them even if they weren’t directly involved turning their attention to the process.  
  
#TBT drive online, accelerator at threshold. Initiation in ten… nine… eight...# As usual, at ‘_five_’ the ship itself blinked to a safe distance, and five seconds later the terminal and the automated transfer probe vanished. #Operation complete. Destination reports normal transfer.#  
  
John smiled. That was thirteen now. Only many to go. He muted the chatter from the crew and went back to work.  
  
Under an hour later, having ignored a couple more blinks, he was roused from a deep contemplation of a particularly esoteric theoretical physics problem when Neils directly contacted him and said, sounding somewhat bemused, #Doctor, there’s something you need to see.#  
  
“Oh?” he replied, carefully filing his thoughts away with a few commands, then turning his attention to the AI. “What’s that?”  
  
A window opened in his mindscape and Neils said with a note of worry present, #This.#  
  
John, along with everyone else on the research vessel, stared at the familiar sight of a planium terminal, with the completely unfamiliar aspect that the planium core was glowing a deep blue color and was surrounded by a rotating set of rings, while the rest of the huge machine was lit up in various places.  
  
Not one person said anything for nearly a minute, until Neils finally commented, #I think we just found proof that _someone_ is using the network...#


	7. This Time WE Probed THEM...

**Day 172 of Year 6936  
Central Government Complex Level 54, Dalet City, Hivehom  
High Councilor’s Office**  
  
“It’s definitely fully functional,” Ziljinrytix said, studying the holo floating in the middle of the room. “Doctor Warden’s team onboard the _Threshold_ were able to remotely connect to the main computer and use the encryption keys they’d derived to download the full database and logs of the device. They found it was activated about two thousand years ago, and more interestingly last _used_ only about _nine_ years ago. The devices don’t keep logs that identify individual ship types, so there’s no data on who it was that used it, but they do log the last few hundred operations. The log shows that it seems to be accessed approximately every eleven years, plus or minus a small offset.”  
  
“Someone is making regular trips through it...” Menjeflikon slowly moved his antennae as he thought.  
  
“Perhaps a patrol or survey of some sort, or is there an inhabited world in that system or a nearby one?” Ambassador Santhotuzex queried.  
  
“They have so far scanned every system to a fifty light year radius and found no sign of intelligent life, nor any other planium traces,” the old scientist replied with a motion of negation. “Of course it’s possible that whoever is using the thing went further afield, but with the working assumption being that they are most likely restricted to a planium superluminal drive, that’s already several days travel time out and back. The next system past that point is another forty six light years further, increasing the time to reach it considerably. They’re working on the basis that there probably isn’t a high likelihood of whoever this is bothering to go quite that far, although they’ll check once they’ve removed the last terminal. Somewhat understandably the discovery of an active one made them drop everything else to investigate.”  
  
“Assuming that these mysterious users stick to the schedule they seem to be working with, at some point in roughly two years they’re going to turn up again,” High Councilor Kinzortifen, whose office they were in, commented thoughtfully. “I assume that our human friends have arranged to place that system under discreet surveillance with that in mind?”  
  
“Yes, they’re using much the same methods they did with us,” Ziljinrytix responded, looking at her. “From a considerable distance, several light months from the system, at least partly because they are very worried about the interaction between energized planium and their technology. Luckily when they headed for this particular terminal they were able to determine that something was odd about it long before their probes reached a dangerous range, and were very cautious about approaching it more closely with the remote systems. I’m told that they’ve acquired some very useful data on planium in this state which was lacking, which will be passed along to us when they’ve finalized it.”  
  
“Good of them,” she said with a flick of one antennae, sounding pleased.  
  
“They are certainly living up to what we’ve come to expect,” Santhotuzex chuckled. “As I’ve said, a closer relationship is not only desirable, but in my opinion inevitable. We’re already practically working together unofficially as it is.”  
  
She glanced at him, looking amused. “We can’t rush it, Santho. But I happen to suspect you’re far more correct than I would have believed a few years ago.”  
  
“It would be worth moving ahead with the various programs we’ve discussed with them,” he replied, indicating the holo with one true-hand. “In light of this discovery, I think that’s more important than ever. We now have positive proof that there are other alien species out there, which are almost certainly using planium at least for their star drives. That could be problematic sooner or later, depending on who they are and how they operate. Combining forces with humanity is in both our best interests in the view of myself, the Academician here, and many others on both sides.”  
  
She studied him, then the holo, before looking at Menjeflikon, who made a gesture of mild agreement mixed with cautious optimism. “Perhaps you’re right. Certainly we’re seeing some impressive results from the initial meetings with our new friends, and I’m well aware that quite a few in the Science Council are somewhat more closely involved with the humans than one might have initially thought likely. Putting that on a more formal basis is probably going to make things simpler in the long run.”  
  
“We’ll need to find a number of volunteers from both our side and the human side,” Menjeflikon remarked.  
  
Ziljinrytix laughed under his breath. “I can give you one name without even thinking very hard,” he snickered, making the other three exchange looks, then sigh faintly.  
  
“Oh, Great Mother save us from the Zex hive...” Menjeflikon muttered, his antennae drooping a little. “They’re so… so… _them_.”  
  
Santhotuzex made a motion of considerable amusement and some sympathy. “Very true. However, they do have a remarkable tendency to be exactly what we need when circumstances get… strange.”  
  
“Mainly because they’re all touched in the head,” the Councilor for Science sighed. “Fine. Agreed. We’ll need more than one overenthusiastic engineer, though.”  
  
“I doubt we’ll have much trouble finding people,” Ziljinrytix said. “I can give you half a dozen other names of people I know personally who would happily swim a lake to be involved. I expect that there will similarly be their counterparts among the humans. We can ask Ambassador Bowman for his opinion on this issue, then see where it leads us.”  
  
“I have a meeting with him later today,” Santhotuzex added, giving the High Councilor a mildly hopeful look. She stared at him, then the holo for a few seconds, before flicking her left antenna.  
  
“All right. Sound them out, make sure they’re in agreement, then we can put it to the council for a vote. If we can reach consensus on it, we’ll contact the IGCC.”  
  
“I’ve been wanting to visit their home world again,” Santhotuzex said happily. “It’s an interesting place.”  
  
She just looked at him, then pretended he hadn’t said anything, which amused Ziljinrytix quite a lot.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
November 2117  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
#The floor is yours, Ambassador Santhotuzex,# Athena said, while everyone present either virtually or actually watched the thranx group. Half a dozen of the aliens, who were becoming very familiar throughout the human worlds if only through the many news reports, documentaries, and random online speculations, were present for this meeting. Santhotuzex and his aide, along with his security detail, were joined by Ziljinrytix and another somewhat younger member of the Science Council, and all of them were sitting in the thranx chairs that had been thoughtfully provided. Next to them, Ambassador Bowman and his colleague Rachel Shepard, along with their own group, were listening carefully.  
  
Santhotuzex stood and moved a little to the side so he could get a good view of the IGCC room and the dozens of humans and their AI friends who were looking at him. It was remarkably hard even for thranx eyes to distinguish between organic being and holoprojection, showing just how good their technology was. It was yet another thing for the list of possible technology trades, he mused as he looked around. The humans were very interested in many aspects of thranx gravity and inertial control tech, along with a lot of specialized engineering his species had designed, not to mention some of their rather more advanced knowledge of biological mainulation. Which wasn’t to say that the humans lacked abilities in those areas, because they very much didn’t. In the other direction, his people were desperately interested in the TBT drive itself, obviously, but also things that the humans took completely for granted these days, such as the n-link which was so far past the thranx data implant it was almost funny.  
  
The level of expertise their new friends had in spintronics, incredibly advanced bio-mimetic cybernetics, and computing in general was also close to awe-inspiring, as could be seen by the number of AIs present both in physical bodies and via holo avatars. He’d met a lot of them over the last couple of years and was a long way past being impressed. The way they’d integrated into society with their organic counterparts was extraordinary, and if nothing else showed that it most certainly _was_ possible for two intelligences with different origins to work together without friction and with both gaining immeasurably from the relationship. He wondered if that might explain how and why the humans had found his species so easy to deal with, having already in a sense met the alien among them years before…  
  
Mind you, that didn’t explain why it worked the other way around. Why and how their two species got along so well was still a subject of much research and probably would be for decades, but by now most people just accepted it as a fact and were more interested in seeing what happened next.  
  
“Thank you, Athena, and thank you all for allowing me the honor of addressing you,” he began with a careful bow, accompanied by high level gestures of respect. He knew that everyone in the room was more than well enough aware of thranx body language to pick up on the nuances, which combined with the essentially perfect real time translation made this sort of thing a lot easier than it could have been. A fair number of humans could understand low thranx even without the translation program running on their n-links these days, and he himself along with quite a lot of his own people were fluent in English, but neither species found speaking the other’s language to be simple without technological aid. Even so, there were signs among the groups that worked closely together that a sort of hybrid language was slowly evolving which might turn out to be very useful.  
  
“As my esteemed colleague and good friend Ambassador Bowman has just said, both our peoples would benefit from a more formalized and extensive arrangement combining our resources, initially for the ongoing study of the planium device network and planium itself, although in the longer term it seems entirely likely that many other opportunities would arise. There are a large number of trade opportunities as we’ve heard, the fulfillment of which would materially help everyone. Scientific research ranging from prosaic to esoteric would also benefit, and in many ways we’re already engaged in that process, our respective experts having seized the opportunity to compare notes with alacrity regardless of the official status.” He glanced at Ziljinrytix who was carefully not looking at him, although his antennae were set in an attitude of mild amusement.  
  
“In essence we believe it is almost inevitable that as time passes, our two species will find ourselves growing closer and closer,” he went on, looking back to the rest of the room and noticing that many of the humans looked pensive but understanding, and both Premier Clarke and Athena were smiling a little. “None of us expected this to happen, certainly as quickly as it appears to, and possibly at all, when we contemplated meeting another intelligence among the stars. However, it _has_ happened, and my personal opinion for what it’s worth is that we should consider ourselves privileged to be watching the start of something that may well have ramifications far beyond anything we can currently envisage. The burrow we dig today will be our home long after all of us are gone, so it’s in our best interests to ensure the foundational work is done correctly, efficiently, and smoothly.”  
  
He paused, glancing about and assessing the mood of the humans present. The years of dealing with the diplomatic mission and the people he’d met as a result had left him far more able to do so than he’d have expected when he was first appointed, so he could easily see that they almost universally seemed interested and receptive.  
  
“With that in mind, my government, following much discussion and a unanimous vote in favor, feels that we should proceed with the experimental exchange of volunteers, experts in many fields, to learn about each other at a level past that which can be achieved with our current diplomatic arrangement, as effective as it has so far proved to be. We don’t lack for candidates on our side, and having spoken to many people on _your_ side, I feel it’s almost certainly true in the other direction.” He waved his antennae a little, conveying good humor, and was pleased to see quite a lot of smiles and a couple of chuckles. “Obviously it will take much effort to pin down the exact parameters of how we would proceed, but agreeing _to_ proceed would seem to be the logical first step. While I’m sure there will be occasional minor problems everyone currently involved believes the end goal is more than worth any initial difficulties. It’s my hope that we can begin this process today, and with a modicum of luck find ourselves in a very interesting place in the next months and years.”  
  
Gesturing in respect again, he retook his seat.  
  
“Thank you, Ambassador Santhotuzex,” Premier Clarke said after a few seconds. The de-facto leader of the humans looked around, although Santhotuzex knew that he was also undoubtedly discussing the situation with many of the people present via their technological augmentations. He was mildly envious of that ability and briefly wondered how quickly a thranx version of an n-link could be designed.  
  
It seemed likely that someone was already working on it, knowing the humans as he did. If they saw what they considered a problem, they couldn’t help themselves, they’d start on a solution to it, even if it wasn’t asked for… Not that he’d turn the opportunity down, of course.  
  
“We’ve heard the proposal, from both the thranx point of view and our own,” the man went on, addressing the chamber at large. “I understand there will be reservations, ideas for modifications, counter-proposals, and probably hours if not days of discussion. But I have little doubt that given the abilities of everyone here, we can come to an arrangement that everyone is happy with, and I personally feel that the time is right for such a thing to happen. As a species we have matured greatly in the last century, rising from our darkest hour to heights we would never have dreamed of only a few short decades ago. We managed to avoid extinction by a combination of good fortune and enormous sacrifice and are now in a position to ensure that nothing of such a nature can threaten our future again. Due to this, we have met and befriended another people, one with whom we share a huge number of values and goals, and achieved something our own species has dreamed of since before we even had language to describe it. We’ve taken the first steps on a long journey that will lead to places yet unknown. Let’s continue that process and see where it takes us.”  
  
There was a brief pause when he stopped speaking then a ripple of approval, expressed in the manner the humans used with their hands. Santhotuzex dipped his head to Premier Clarke in respect, feeling that this was the beginning of something that was going to be absolutely _fascinating._  
  
And immensely entertaining.  
  
Several weeks later, he was tired but very, very satisfied as he boarded the ship that would take him home again. They still had a lot of work to do, but the foundations had been dug.  
  
Job satisfaction. It was a wonderful thing.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Day 221 of Year 6938  
Central Government Complex Level 51, Dalet City, Hivehom  
Science Councilor’s Office**  
  
Almost vibrating with excitement, Leyzenzuzex tried to get himself under control. Stilling his twitching antennae with a massive effort, he took a few deep breaths and released them slowly, his spiracles hissing as he attempted a relaxation technique his grandfather had taught him years ago. ‘_Calm. Still waters, bucolic scenes of the country, other images that I can’t be bothered to remember..._’ His mind was still whizzing along, but he was eventually able to bring his emotional state back to something closer to respectable.  
  
When he was finally able to move without jerking from the suppressed feelings, he very carefully turned to the people waiting for him, who had politely been ignoring his state after the revelations of earlier. Even so he could tell from the set of their own antennae that they found it somewhat amusing. “Yes,” he said. “I’d be extremely proud to volunteer.”  
  
Councilor Menjeflikon very carefully didn’t show any visible signs he’d found Leyzen’s reaction funny, but there was a certain dry tone to his voice that spoke volumes. “I suspected that would be the case,” he replied. “Understand, Leyzenzuzex, this program is important. It has taken nearly two years of highly complex negotiations to get us to this point and we do _not_ want it put at risk by… excessive enthusiasm.”  
  
“I understand, sir, really I do,” Leyzen responded earnestly. “I’ve dreamed of something like this my entire life. When the humans rescued us like that… it was in a way the best moment of my existence, especially after we’d been contemplating what might have happened. And being allowed to be part of the diplomatic party was, and remains, a true privilege I can’t really properly express my gratitude for.” He paused for breath and a moment to calm down again. “I’ve learned so _much_ from them. And made friends I never thought I would...” Trailing off for a moment, he finished with a complex gesture of respect. “To be allowed to continue as part of the exchange program is beyond my wildest dreams.”  
  
“You will be a long, long way from home for some time,” the Councilor of Science remarked, glancing at Academician Ziljinrytix who was listening quietly. “While the Blink drive can easily return you at any point, we don’t want to give the impression that our people give up easily, so we’re hoping that you and the others will be able to handle being among aliens for possibly months at a time. It’s something that may be difficult.”  
  
“I may be many things, sir, but I’m not a quitter,” Leyzen said firmly with a confident tilt to his antenna. “I like the humans a lot, and they seem to like me. I also respect them. We may be better in some areas than they are but the same goes in the other direction. I firmly believe that our destinies are intertwined in ways we may not even be able to conceive of so soon after meeting for the first time. I think they do too, from what I’ve heard from them. They’re good people, very intelligent, honest, and honorable, no matter what their history has buried in it. We have our own events we can’t boast about too, and they don’t care about _that._ Both our species can learn much from each other, and I’d be more than happy to be part of that learning process.”  
  
Both his seniors observed him silently for a while, then looked at each other. Ziljinrytix flicked one antenna, and made a motion with a true-hand. Menjeflikon looked back to Leyzen. “Well said. Possibly a little premature, but I can’t deny that based on the time since the _Rylix_ incident, we’ve made far more progress than I would ever have thought likely with an alien species. I suspect we may have been much luckier with who we met than we might have been, but until and unless we happen to encounter someone else, we probably won’t know for certain.”  
  
“The humans think likewise,” Ziljinrytix commented, sounding mildly amused. “They are as puzzled as we are about how compatible our two species are, both physically and mentally, despite the obvious differences. And they’re very interested to see how this program works out, of course. It holds much promise of innumerable benefits for both of us, even past the revolution in technology we’re beginning to see just from knowing what can be done. In a few years, or a few decades…?” He motioned indicating wordless anticipation.  
  
“You’ll be a representative of our species, and what you do and say will reflect on all of us, so please for the sake of good relations bear that in mind,” Menjeflikon went on. “While some allowances will be made, for the most part you will also be subject to human regulations and laws, which while surprisingly compatible with our own, do differ in some key places. We’ll be providing everyone who’s part of this program with a large amount of documentation on how to behave, what you can do, what you _can’t_ do, and topics that need to be approached with caution. Our human counterparts have put in a lot of effort in conjunction with our own people to come up with a coherent set of… rules of engagement, in a sense… for this entire endeavor. Make sure you read _everything_, and if you have any questions, ask before you leave. Depending on where you end up, you’ll probably find you can clarify any issues with your hosts if you’re polite and respectful, as they’re generally very approachable, but just like with us you’ll occasionally meet someone who’s just difficult to deal with. No one’s perfect. Try to stay out of trouble if that happens.”  
  
“I always _try_ to stay out of trouble, sir,” Leyzen said earnestly and mostly honestly.  
  
Menjeflikon gave him a look. “Yesss. I seem to recall hearing something remarkably similar to that from your grandfather, generally immediately before something very strange happened to someone in the vicinity…”  
  
Leyzen did his best not to show any reaction, although the way Ziljinrytix’s antennae twitched suggested he wasn’t entirely successful.  
  
“I wouldn’t know anything about that, sir,” he replied calmly.  
  
“Of course not.” The Councilor studied him for a moment more, then turned to his companion. “Are you _sure_ about him?”  
  
“He’s even been tested, he’ll be fine,” Ziljinrytix commented with a faint laugh in his voice. Leyzen was still deliberately being as calm as possible but he was beginning to find the entire situation rather funny as well as unbelievably exciting and totally terrifying.  
  
“I certainly hope so,” Menjeflikon sighed. “Please don’t let us down, Leyzenzuzex.”  
  
“I won’t, sir. This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever even considered and there’s no way I want to jeopardize it. I’ll be good.”  
  
“Excellent. In that case, we’ll be in touch shortly with more details. Once we’ve arranged everyone who’s involved in phase one and exchanged information with the humans, we can see about working out who goes where at both ends. It will be at least forty days from now before we finish interviewing all the candidates, so you won’t hear anything before then.” He handed Leyzen a data crystal. “This is the documentation. I’d suggest you take the time to study it very carefully. There _will_ be a test before we let you loose on the humans.”  
  
Leyzen put the crystal carefully away, resolving to read everything on it until he could recite it from memory while drunk. “Of course, Councilor. And thank you again for considering me for this program.”  
  
“Hopefully I can look back on this in a few years and say you’re welcome, rather than what in the name of the Great Mother was I thinking,” Menjeflikon said, although he looked fairly pleased.  
  
Just before he was about to get up and leave, the interview clearly now being over, Leyzen had a thought and asked, “If I can… What’s going to happen to my old ship? The _Rylix_ was home for quite a while and it was a good vessel, leaving aside a minor drive issue...”  
  
“The damage to the posigravity drive was too severe to repair without a complete rebuild, and the series three drives have been withdrawn from service in any case,” Menjeflikon said after a moment’s consideration of the question. “There was also some structural damage to the hull, mostly minor frame distortions, although that’s repairable. Initially it was thought that the ship would be either stored for future use or decommissioned, but one of the outcomes of our negotiations with the humans is that they’ve agreed to lend us some TBT drive units and control systems. The _Rylix_ will be the first recipient of one of these.”  
  
“Everyone is interested in seeing how well human drive technology interfaces with our ship designs, as in the long run we’ll be making our own TBT drives, with or without human aid,” Ziljinrytix put in, causing Leyzen to turn to him. “It was thought much simpler to do it this way rather than waiting for our own hardware to be designed and manufactured.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear the _Rylix_ will return to service,” Leyzen finally said, genuinely pleased. He missed his ship at times, even though the job had been largely routine. Right up until it abruptly wasn’t, of course…  
  
“And being the first thranx blink drive ship is good too,” he added. “That will certainly make a big difference to cargo shipment times to Willow-Wane, which can only be good.”  
  
“That is certainly true, yes,” the Councilor agreed.  
  
“Thank you, sir. I’d better get out of your way now,” Leyzen said, standing up. He made a gesture of deep respect and gratitude with all four hands. “I promise I won’t let you down.”  
  
“When you next see him, give my respects to Ryozenzuzex,” Menjeflikon replied.  
  
“I will, sir. Good bye for now.”  
  
When he left the room and had made his way to a place sufficiently far away that it was private, Leyzen nearly collapsed in the weirdest mixture of terror, excitement, anticipation, more terror, happiness, and finally disbelief, that he’d ever felt in his life. It took him several time periods to recover enough to stand up and head home and his mind was furiously busy the entire journey.  
  
But when he finally fell asleep that night, he was in a very happy place indeed.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
October 2119  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Corridor 4N**  
  
“Good morning, Doctor Warden.” John turned at the sound of a familiar slightly whispery voice coming from behind him, then smiled.  
  
“Ambassador Santhotuzex, it’s a pleasure. I didn’t realize you were on Earth again.”  
  
The thranx ambassador, accompanied by the pair of bodyguards that followed him everywhere very discreetly, made a motion signifying acceptance and amusement. “My job takes me back and forth these days. My counterpart is currently on Hivehom deep in discussion with our High Council, finalizing the details of the exchange program.”  
  
“I’ve been following that process with interest,” John replied, resuming his slow walk towards one of the better cafeterias in the massive IGCC complex, which had grown hugely since he’d first visited it so many years ago. “I have high hopes for it.”  
  
“As do we,” Santhotuzex remarked as he fell into step next to John, his four legs moving rapidly in a gait that was still slightly odd to see from a human point of view. “We’ve selected all our candidates and ensured that they understand the situation fully. Your people are nearly finished with their own selections. We should be in a position to begin within a month at most.”  
  
“Sounds good,” John nodded. “It’ll be fascinating to see how it works out.”  
  
“Indeed. If I might ask, how is your own research proceeding?”  
  
“Very well, thank you.” John glanced down at his companion for the moment. “We’ve more or less fully reverse engineered the planium devices now, and could easily make one if we were crazy enough to want to. We’ve also got far, far more planium safely separated from the units we’ve disassembled than anyone is happy thinking about. There’s been some consideration towards destroying it just to be safe, but it’s possibly it might come in useful eventually so we’re just making sure it’s stashed somewhere an awfully long way away from anything breakable.”  
  
Santhotuzex made a sound that was very close to a human laugh, his antennae moving in a way that John could tell showed he thought the comment funny even without the benefit of the translation overlay. “I’m not sure _how_ it would be useful, but I can appreciate the sentiment,” he replied. “While being grateful it’s many thousands of light years away. I would prefer it to stay there.”  
  
“Everyone would,” John agreed, glancing over his shoulder at the two security thranx, who seemed to believe the same thing if he was any judge. Returning his attention to Santhotuzex, he added, “We’re also steadily moving terminals out of the galaxy. We’ve got about eighty percent of the ones in our sector so far, and the rest won’t take more than another year at most.”  
  
“I assume that no other active units have been found?”  
  
“No. As far as we can tell, no one has used any terminal in this part of the galaxy for a minimum of some fifty three thousand years, and in most cases far longer. All the logs we’ve so far extracted show that the majority of the terminals were last activated between forty and two hundred and sixty million years ago. It would appear that our sector of space either hasn’t had many visitors for a very long time indeed, or they didn’t use the network just as we don’t.”  
  
“Intriguing,” the ambassador remarked quietly with a gesture of curiosity. “Considering that we now know that other parts of the network are in active use, I wonder why this particular part of space is apparently ignored?”  
  
“We don’t know. There are a lot of questions still remaining about the entire thing, the biggest ones being who made it and why,” John shrugged. “With any luck we’ll eventually work all that out, but it’s probably not going to be soon or easy to do.”  
  
“Has any sign of who _is_ using the network been found yet?”  
  
“Not that I’ve heard, no.” John shook his head as they arrived at the cafeteria. “Would you and your people like to join me?”  
  
Santhotuzex glanced into the room, then at his guards, before nodding, a gesture the thranx that dealt with humans a lot seemed to have picked up. “Certainly, I find human food to be quite interesting.”  
  
It didn’t take long for all of them to acquire food and drink, the cafeteria even having a supply of thranx drinking bulbs on hand, which mildly surprised John although considering how many times the diplomatic parties had visited in the last couple of years it probably shouldn’t have done. When they were arranged around a table, the three thranx improvising some seating from a pair of normal chairs each, he sipped his coffee, then resumed their conversation. “IGCC policy at the moment is to be very careful indeed about actively exploring locations where we know the terminal network may be in use. IS is poking around at a safe distance and so far they’ve found four more active terminals but they haven’t entered the systems in question out of an abundance of caution. No ships have been detected using the network the last I checked, but if we’re actually on the outskirts of whatever civilization is involved in terminal travel, that’s not necessarily surprising.”  
  
“Or it could be that no one is _currently_ utilizing the network, although they were fairly recently,” the ambassador commented, inspecting his fruit juice with interest before trying it, then looking satisfied. “Excellent, I haven’t had… guava, is it?”  
  
“Yes. It’s quite good.”  
  
“I’ll have to remember this.” Santhotuzex took another sip and made a slight whistle of appreciation. “Very good indeed. But yes, it might well be that whoever was using the network terminals so far located isn’t doing so any more, although with the most recent transport on the first one found only some ten years or so in the past, that seems unlikely. So your idea that we’re simply off the beaten path, as the human expression has it, may well be correct.”  
  
“Based on those particular logs, if whoever it is sticks to their schedule, we expect to see them come through sometime in the next month or so, which would prove that nicely,” John pointed out, before taking a bite from his apple. Having swallowed it, he grinned a little. “Their reaction to finding the other terminal missing might be interesting, assuming they both know about it and bother to look.”  
  
Santhotuzex made a thranx chuckle, the sound quite different from a human laugh but one that was familiar to the scientist. “Yes, it could show a number of useful data points on how they work depending on what happens. We shall have to wait and see.”  
  
He paused, then continued, “On a rather different matter, I wanted to ask you something, so meeting you was quite fortuitous.”  
  
“Ask away, Ambassador,” John invited, curious to know what the other person was after. Santhotuzex if anything seemed mildly embarrassed.  
  
“The exchange program is very important to all of us, and we all want it to go as smoothly as possible,” the thranx began, his antennae moving in a manner showing slight worry. “On balance I believe this will happen. There is much to gain from it, and I expect that although there are bound to be occasional oddities and minor issues, I have no doubt that these can be overcome.”  
  
“I’d like to think so, sir,” John nodded. “We all want the same thing and everyone has been pleased how easily it’s fallen into place, even though it’s taken a lot of work, from what I’ve been told.”  
  
“Indeed. But even so, there is... some potential for problems in a few cases. Bearing in mind the type of person who would volunteer for the task to begin with, we’ll inevitably find that a few of them are...” Santhotuzex paused, clearly trying to work out how to word the next part.  
  
“Possibly a little _too_ invested in meeting aliens?” John smiled.  
  
“Yes. A good way to put it.”  
  
“You have someone particular in mind, I suspect.”  
  
There was a faint whistling sigh. “Again, yes. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not suggesting the person I’m thinking about is in any way wrong for the job before him. In almost every respect he’s a perfect fit, he’s highly intelligent, well trained, pleasant to deal with, and so on. But he’s also… at times, his sense of humor is a little… unconventional, shall we say. This has led to some somewhat regrettable incidents in the past. It runs in the family.”  
  
John studied him, then looked at the two bodyguards, who were quietly listening while sipping bulbs of coffee, something the thranx seemed to thoroughly enjoy. Returning his attention to the ambassador, he replied, “I recall more than one of Captain Bertels’s reports mentioned a certain Leyzenzuzex, who is if I’m correct a distant relation of yours? Grandson of your first superluminal test pilot, and someone who has made quite the impression on the crew of the _We Come In Peace_...”  
  
Santhotuzex made a gesture that was almost a shrug, and tilted his head slightly. “Leyzenzuzex is an exceptional engineer and thoroughly fascinated by your species, and the concept of alien life in general. The rescue of the _Rylix_ left an impression on him, as indeed it did on the entire crew, and he was… very pleased indeed… to be offered the opportunity to volunteer for this program. Please don’t misapprehend me, he is a perfect fit for the task and I have no doubt whatsoever that he will excel at it. I am merely mildly concerned that his personality _might_ be slightly overwhelming for some humans until they get to know him properly, once he gets over his amazement at the entire thing. He’s… talkative.”  
  
He thought for a second, then added, “_Very_ talkative.”  
  
John snickered. “I get the idea. I’ve known a lot of people like that myself. I was one, for that matter, although with age comes a certain amount of dignity.”  
  
Santhotuzex tilted his head the other way, the light sparkling on his enormous compound eyes. There was a certain air about him that suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced but was too polite to mention it. “As you say,” he remarked dryly. “But one needs to _reach_ that age, of course.”  
  
“One does.” John finished his apple, then nodded. “So we need to match him up with someone who can handle an overenthusiastic engineer.”  
  
“Quite. I was thinking about that minor conundrum and recalled hearing about a certain crew you would be very familiar with, who by what I’ve learned might be exactly what we are looking for...”  
  
“Oh, lord. I was worried you were leading up to that,” John moaned, causing Santhotuzex to appear amused. “You do realize that we may look back on this in a few years and think, ‘_I know _**_exactly_**_ when things began to go horribly wrong..._’”  
  
They looked at each other, then both laughed. “All right. I’ll mention it to them. The decision is theirs, but if they’re interested, it will either be the ideal place for your fellow, or the beginning of the end times.”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor. I didn’t want to officially suggest it until I’d talked to you,” the ambassador replied, sounding pleased. “I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I was playing favorites due to family connections, but Leyzenzuzex is someone we’re watching for a number of reasons and we want to make sure everything goes as well as we can arrange. That was one of many problems I need to forestall before they happen.”  
  
Lifting his coffee cup, John saluted the thranx with it. “What could possibly go wrong?” he quipped, making Santhotuzex chuckle and his bodyguards to exchange looks and wave their antennae a little in what looked like slightly worried amusement.  
  
“I have little doubt we’ll find out eventually,” the ambassador replied. “That does tend to be the way life works.”  
  
When, some while later, John went home, he spent a while thinking while watching his wife work, before sighing faintly and placing an n-link call that he hoped everyone wasn’t going to blame him for in the long run.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
November 2119  
5.2 light years from HD291789, M2V red dwarf star with active planium device  
Onboard CCF scout ship _What’s All This Then_**  
  
“The terminal is activating, sir!”  
  
Lieutenant Dave Harris, commander of the relatively tiny scout ship, jolted upright in his chair as the science officer made his announcement. His small crew, consisting of five humans and two AIs, all quickly connected to the heavily shielded and instrumented probe that was innocently following the distant planium device around its star more than five light years from their current position, disguised as a very small asteroid.  
  
#Inbound connection established to upstream node… handshake complete, new reference frame applied… inbound ship inserted into FTL conduit…,# Hal, the AI who ran most of the ship systems when he wasn’t cheating at poker, calmly said as he monitored the device computer system. #Transit completed, ship exiting conduit, link disconnected from upstream node. Whoever they are, they’re now in the system.#  
  
“Do we have a visual yet?” Harris asked.  
  
#Working on it, I’m just making sure they’re not going to detect the probe…# Everyone waited for a few seconds as Hal did his thing. #OK, that’s got it. No signs they’ve spotted our equipment.# All of them studied the high resolution imagery that was now visible, while passive instrumentation scanned for anything interesting. The new arrival was a graceful looking thing, made of smooth curves that melded together into a coherent whole showing considerable design expertise. It was close to six times their size, at some five hundred meters long, a little larger than a typical thranx cargo ship, although obviously massing considerably less even though the readings showed the hull was much thicker than one would have expected. The hull metal was only a titanium alloy, though, and while nicely shaped not particularly advanced.  
  
“They’re definitely using a planium superluminal drive system, the crazy bastards,” one of the two engineering crew commented, sounding horrified. “Scans show that ship is absolutely loaded with the fucking stuff. Must be at least fifty kilos in the rear section, that’ll be their drive I’d guess, but we’re tracking smaller amounts all over the damn thing. Anywhere from a few grams of it down to milligram amounts.”  
  
“It’s worse than that, Mike,” Akemi, the other AI on board, who was also the other member of the engineering team and preferred to remain embodied, said with a distinct sound of unease in her voice. Everyone looked at her. “A lot of the smaller traces are moving around. The movement profile matched a lot better than I’d like to people wandering around the ship. I think they’re actually _carrying planium around with them_.”  
  
“Holy shit,” Mike breathed. “Actually on their bodies? Are they _insane?_”  
  
“It’s difficult to tell without using active scans whether such small amounts are energized or not, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest they’re using it in hand held technology of some sort,” she replied after a couple of seconds, shaking her head in wonder. “Probably as a power source, I’d think.”  
  
“I’m not sure I’d want to be carrying a multi-kiloton-yield battery in my pocket,” Dave commented with a sick sensation in the pit of his stomach. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have fifty kilos of planium only a few hundred meters away...”  
  
#Well, if nothing else we’ve answered a number of questions we’ve had for a long time,” Hal said. #We know the terminal network is definitely being used at the present time, we know the people traveling through it are exploiting planium for superluminal travel, and we’re pretty certain they’re also working with planium based technology on a much wider scale, as terrifying as that is to contemplate.#  
  
“If they do that on a wide scale, their entire planet would be hopelessly contaminated with the damn stuff after a few decades or so, unless they were ridiculously careful about handling it,” Mike pointed out. “And if they were that careful they probably _wouldn’t_ be using it on a wide scale. Leaving aside the destabilization problem it’s also very toxic.”  
  
“It might not be to them, of course.” Akemi shrugged a little.  
  
He didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, maybe, but from what I’ve studied on it I think it’s probably going to be toxic to _anything_ living.”  
  
#They’re scanning the system now,# Hal reported a moment later. #Radar, some sort of lidar system in the UV range, and they deployed some automated probes. Seems like a routine survey rather than because they’re looking for something in particular, based on the scan pattern.#  
  
“That would fit with the apparently scheduled nature of their arrival,” Gregor, their science officer, remarked. He was very carefully watching their own scans as they watched the alien vessel go about its business. “They might be an equivalent to us, from some sort of exploration or surveillance group.”  
  
“Possible, definitely,” Dave nodded. They kept watching the ship work for a couple of hours, logging everything they could about it with passive instrumentation, and learning quite a lot about how this new species designed their hardware. The vessel was clearly armed, with some sort of projectile cannon running down the middle, and what appeared to be a rather underwhelming laser-based CIWS for point defense, but at the same time didn’t give off the feeling of being an actual warship. The implications were slightly worrying. If the aliens felt the need to have an armed, and by the readings, quite heavily armored, survey or research ship there was presumably a reason for it, and the most likely reason was someone else who might take a shot at them.  
  
“I wonder if these guys are the Promethians?” Akemi asked after some time.  
  
“I doubt it, the design of that ship is completely different to the stuff that was found in the Mars base,” Mike replied, shaking his head. “Totally separate design ethos. Sure, fifty thousand years is a long time and they might have changed, but it doesn’t really fit. If nothing else I’d have expected someone who was able to do interstellar travel fifty thousand years ago to be a lot more advanced by now, and to be honest that thing doesn’t seem all that high tech to me. No sign at all of spintronics, for example, only some form of quantum computer that’s not even as good as the stuff from Mars and _that_ was sixty years behind what we were producing _then_.”  
  
“Valid points,” she nodded thoughtfully.  
  
The alien ship kept poking around in the system for another six hours while they made regular reports on their observations to IS headquarters, then finally it recalled its drones and began moving, the fusion torch lighting off with a brilliant white glow. “Accelerating at approximately fifteen g,” Gregor observed. “They’ve got some sort of inertial reference frame compensation but it’s not reading as being all that effective. That may be their maximum thrust, or close to it.”  
  
“Wow.” Mike shook his head in wonder. “I could _run_ faster than that...”  
  
“In your dreams… hold on, what...” Gregor stopped abruptly, then said, “Huh. So _that’s_ what a planium FTL drive looks like when someone uses it.”  
  
All of them stared as the distant ship suddenly accelerated at a ferocious rate while space in the close proximity of it went slightly strange, a blue glow surrounding the vessel. It went right through the speed of light in mere seconds, and kept going, instantly disappearing from conventional instruments. #Tracking a superluminal distortion in real space heading directly towards the HD287134 system,# Hal stated. #They’ve topped out at just under twelve lights per day. I’m… not impressed.#  
  
“Even the second gen thranx drives were better than that, and nothing like as dangerous,” Dave chuckled. “All right. Let’s report back again, then go and set up some more probes for when they finally turn up. It’ll be interesting to see what they do when they can’t find the terminal. We could learn a lot about them, especially if we can tap their comms. Let’s see if we can get some passive probes close enough for that.”  
  
Soon, they’d finished logging their report, and the ship silently disappeared from its former position, covering in microseconds a distance the alien vessel they were shadowing would take the larger part of a day to do.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
December 2119  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group**  
  
“The alien vessel spent nearly a week running a spiral search pattern out to just over half a light year from the HD287134 system after discovering the terminal there was missing. From their initial reactions they clearly expected to find it, and were extremely surprised to find it gone.” General LeBatelier appeared slightly amused by this. “Our own people were able to get some passive probes on their hull and monitor internal ship communications, although they judged it too risky to attemt to interface to the alien computers. We have to assume the aliens aren’t stupid and most likely have plenty of protections on their systems, which means someone would almost certainly have noticed any unauthorized access. They probably wouldn’t find the probes, the things are practically dust, unless they swept the hull extremely carefully but there’s no point pushing our luck.”  
  
He brought up another display, replacing the holo that had shown the path the unknown species had taken while searching for the now-dismantled planium device with one illustrating the alien ship. “Their ship design is interesting on a number of points. The hull is absurdly thick, far more than required unless it’s intended to either act as armor against weapons fire, or is likely to undergo significant stress. The terminal transportation network is theorized to apply considerable loads to a ship entering the FTL corridor, but nothing anywhere near bad enough to require such heavy construction, so that’s unlikely to be the primary reason for the hull being as thick as it is.”  
  
The image rotated as he spoke, various subsystems being highlighted with data for each appearing. “The presence of weapons, including this longitudinally mounted mass accelerator that runs most of the length of the vessel and is clearly intended for long range attack, along with a laser-based CIWS network obviously meant for defensive use, strongly suggests that the main reason for the armored hull is _as_ an armored hull. Even so, our analysis shows that this is unlikely to be designed as a purely military vessel for many reasons which are detailed in the report from the R and D division. It would seem to be more along the lines of a heavily armed survey class ship, which is backed up by the sheer number of sensory systems we found. Far more than would be necessary for most military uses but well in line with what one would expect on a scientific vessel.”  
  
“The drive system appears to be using energized planium for both power generation and superluminal travel, as was originally proposed as possible by Doctor Warden’s group a considerable time ago. Main propulsion at subluminal velocities is a fusion torch with nothing particularly unusual about it as far as we could see aside from having rather low output compared to ours, which is likely due to the lack of full inertic compensation. The maximum FTL speed observed was approximately eleven point eight nine light years per day, somewhat lower than our theory shows should be possible, but of course we don’t know if they were going flat out or not. Regardless, we’re sure the upper limit is at best roughly twenty light years per day even with the most advanced possible drive based on planium, as it simply won’t allow anything faster. The drive is using slightly over fifty kilograms of planium in the main system here, while there is another two hundred and six grams spread throughout what we believe is their engineering section in this zone back here, presumably used as backup power supplies and in various support equipment.”  
  
There were a lot of people looking very worried at that point, he absently noticed as he glanced around at his audience, which included both the aforementioned Doctor Warden and a number of his current team, and a group from the Thranx Science Council headed by the highly respected Academician Ziljinrytix. No one said anything as he went on.  
  
“However, there is a more alarming discovery, which is that their technology also uses planium for more purposes that we would have expected, as far as can be determined mostly for a power source. The survey crew noticed almost immediately that there were a number of moving planium traces, which they realized would map very well to individual users moving about their ship. This is useful, as it lets us estimate the number of crew on board as approximately one hundred and thirty, but also more than a little disturbing as it shows not only that each of them is carrying around the equivalent of a very large fusion weapon, but that planium use in their society is likely sufficiently widespread that their world may be contaminated with it to a level that would defy any plausible method to clean it up.” Overlaying the full record of planium locations detected inside the alien ship, he showed how the entire thing lit up with literally hundreds of separate readings.  
  
“Another thing that we noticed was this section highlighted near the middle of the vessel, which shows a lot of planium sources arranged in a manner that is strongly reminiscent of something along the lines of an armory. Assuming that is the correct interpretation, it suggests that they have weaponized planium as well. Since we know they can’t be using WIMP technology in any manner, they’re probably making use of it both again as a compact high density power source, and in some manner simultaneously leveraging the way it can do odd things to perceived mass. One suggestion is that it’s possibly they could be exploiting a mass-reduction effect in a linear accelerator, producing something similar to a rail-gun only not employing magnetic fields. We’re still researching the implications and possible strengths and limitations of that type of weapon.”  
  
#Presumably the main gun would be a much larger version of the same thing,# Athena suggested, the AI looking very interested.  
  
The general nodded. “We believe so. Passive scans are limited in the resolution of the data they produce but there’s evidence of superconducting magnetic coils in the large cannon. They’re not as large as one would expect for a gun that big, so bearing in mind the planium we can detect near it, that seems the most likely explanation. It could allow some moderately impressive muzzle velocities although nothing particularly spectacular according to our experts. Probably a few thousand to perhaps a couple of tens of thousand kilometers per second at best. The muzzle diameter isn’t large enough to imply a round of more than perhaps fifty kilograms even if they used depleted uranium. There were also no traces of fissionables on board, so they would appear not to be using fusion warheads either. It’s basically firing solid projectiles.”  
  
#So they’re essentially throwing rocks...# she commented with a slight smile.  
  
“Very hard very fast rocks, but yes, it’s not a high tech weapon in some ways,” he agreed with a smile of his own. “Easy enough to avoid except at point blank range too, and the cyclic rate is quite likely fairly low. It wouldn't be something you'd want to get hit by, but at the same time it's slow enough that we could simply move out of the way. We can’t find any evidence of energy weapons other than the CIWS network which uses reasonably powerful UV lasers. The range would be quite short due to the wavelength and our estimates for power output are in the low megawatt range, most likely pulsed fire. They’d be effective enough against something like a small fighter ship if they use such things, but only at close range in combat terms. We don’t know how good their targeting systems are, so their efficacy against missiles is unknown. They’d do nothing useful at all against thranx standard hull metal, and almost nothing to our own cerametals. Maybe ablate the outer layers a little after a while, but that would buff out.”  
  
There was a slight ripple of laughter and the thranx present wiggled their antennae with amusement.  
  
After a moment he continued, bringing up another diagram, “Another thing that was found was that there is a very slight inertic distortion around the hull. Doctor Warden and Academician Ziljinrytix have suggested that the current understanding of planium technology may allow for a form of shielding to be produced, which these readings could be a manifestation of. This would in theory act as an inertial barrier to kinetic energy, probably only above a specific velocity. Certainly the passive probes didn’t have any difficulty with it, but their relative velocity was very low to prevent detection. If this is in fact the case we assume it is a defense designed to deal with incoming rounds from a weapon in the same class as the one mounted to the ship, which would seem the logical conclusion. It would have no effect on energy weapons, and little on particle beams or directed plasma, perhaps reducing the impact by a few percent but nothing more than that.”  
  
“It might be the case that a genuine military craft would have far more powerful weapons and effective defenses,” Lord Alamo, somewhat unexpectedly, put in. Everyone looked at him, making him seem momentarily slightly embarrassed but he rallied well. “It makes sense to me. If this is only a scout of some sort, it’s not necessarily going to have top of the line milspec weapons, is it? You’d probably reserve those for something more serious. That thing is probably armed well enough to handle criminals and pirates or something of that nature, rather than take part in real combat. It’s possible they have much more powerful weapons that are fitted to their actual warships.”  
  
#Lord Alamo has a point,# Minerva, the IS AI, commented. #Assuming that they do in fact _have_ actual warships. It’s possible that this class of vessel is as heavily armed as they get. We don’t have enough evidence to be sure one way or the other. However, if they _do_ have ships designed specifically as destroyers, or missile carriers, or some other form of military configuration, I would think that those would be where the heavy weapons were.# Lord Alamo nodded to her, as her avatar glanced at him with a slightly approving look.  
  
“My point exactly. Drawing conclusions from one example of a ship when we don’t have any real data on what that class of ship is intended for could lead us to underestimate them considerably.”  
  
“Agreed, your lordship,” General LeBatelier said with a nod. “We’re not assuming that this is the limit of their weaponry for exactly those reasons. They may indeed have far more powerful systems. However, even this one example does tell us a lot about how they’re likely to approach military objectives, at least the general types of weapons they’d employ, and quite a number of other useful things. The main one being, of course, that they use planium with a level of ease that suggest both that they’ve been doing it for a long time _and_ that they haven’t got the first clue about how dangerous the hellish stuff really is. Which in turn tells us fairly conclusively that they can’t have any understanding of even basic WIMP theory from a practical technological standpoint or they might well not still exist.”  
  
He looked around at his audience, many of whom he could see had already come to the same conclusion the scientists had. For the benefit of the record and those who hadn’t worked it out, he went on, “If a species that was routinely using planium in their technology happened to try experimenting with something even as primitive by today’s standards as Doctor Warden’s original equipment that led to the TBT drive, any planium within a couple of hundred kilometers would have destabilized the moment they turned it on. Based only on that ship, if we assume that most people would be carrying the same sort of equipment in their day to day lives, well...” He shrugged. “I’d be shocked if the explosion was less than something in the multiple gigaton range. And they might never even figure out what happened, assuming anyone survived in the first place.”  
  
“Planium technology and WIMP technology are completely incompatible at a very fundamental level,” Ziljinrytix remarked, sounding uneasy. “Even with shielding, I would be extremely hesitant to approach anyone carrying any of the equipment present on that ship more closely than a thousand kilometers or so. Just in case.” He made a gesture signifying worry. “The more concerning aspect of widespread planium use in a population is that it’s entirely possible there could be biological contamination from industrial incidents and losses. Both our species have enough examples from our own pasts to recognize how easily traces of such things as heavy metals and synthetic chemicals can end up in the food chain, or the general environment. The survey team already came to that conclusion, of course. I’m more worried that it may well be the case that individual members of that species have microgram quantities of planium in their bodies. In such small amounts the toxicity might not be a problem, but a microgram of planium is still a vast explosion waiting to happen.”  
  
#And removing it would be extremely difficult,# Athena added, her face showing deep thought and some concern. #Not impossible, but for a population of millions or billions, prohibitively time consuming. Not to mention risky.#  
  
“From what you’re saying it sounds like we’d have a number of nearly insurmountable problems making contact with these people,” one of the EA security directors commented.  
  
“That is sadly true, yes, sir,” LeBatelier replied with a nod. “The overall consensus, from both a military and scientific viewpoint, is that we don’t really think it’s sensible to risk contact with them, at least for now. We should learn all we can about them, of course, as we did with our neighbors the thranx, since it’s always possible that in the future there would be a good reason to contact them, and some safe way found to do so. But at the moment it seems far too hazardous from both our point of view and theirs. From a military perspective they present no threat, as they’re far enough away at the closest that they’d have several years worth of FTL travel to come anywhere near us without using the terminals, and it’s not impossible their ships aren’t in fact designed for that mission duration in the first place. With the speed and simplicity of using the transport network, there might not be sufficient need to make them able to function outside the network for that length of time as far as they’re concerned.”  
  
Switching back to the initial data on the alien ship, he gestured at it. “Leaving aside the fact that we could simply leave even if by some remote chance we _did_ end up in a conflict with them, with no real way they could follow us, stop us, or even work out where we went, a craft of that nature isn’t a threat either. The obvious flaw is that we could pop it like a balloon from the other side of a star system with a WIMP beam. Even ignoring that, a twenty gigawatt-class gamma mining laser would slice it up like salami from a million kilometers away. One of the big thranx ones would vaporize it completely. And we have a lot of other weapons on the drawing board that could easily be brought into production if required. Not that I for a moment think we are likely to get into a fight with them, or anyone else if we can avoid it, but we do have the ability to utterly ruin someone’s day without much in the way of effort.”  
  
He shook his head with a somewhat rueful smile. “Hell, we could bomb them out of existence from here without even using ships, anywhere in the galaxy. And that’s not even considering some of the _really_ wild ideas the weapons division has come up with over the years. But my point is that they’re not a threat to us at all. We can see them coming and just not be there when they turn up, after all. We’re far more of a threat to _them_, but mostly by an accident of fate. Our technology makes theirs go bang in a serious way. We should arrange to stay well away from them for their sake.”  
  
Premier Clarke, who was looking thoughtful and troubled in equal quantity, asked, “What else did your people learn about them aside from the technology they were using? Do we know anything about them as a species, like where they come from, what they were doing, and that sort of thing?”  
  
The general turned to him. “Not as much as we’d like. We recorded a couple of hundred hours of internal communications and a lot of sensor data that could be tapped without risking detection. That’s given us a start on their language, again using the same basic methods we did in the Hivehom system, but we’ll need more information to come up with a good translation overlay. We’ve also got a fair amount of internal camera footage from what appears to be a security system.” The holo changed as he spoke to show several windows with views from inside the ship. “We corrected for the odd viewpoints, and the internal lighting, which is rather more biased towards blue than ours tends to be.”  
  
The aliens moving around in the images were tall, very slender, and somewhat reptilian in appearance, with attenuated skulls that swept back into a pair of hornlike protrusions towards the rear. They had large eyes, and their overall skin color seemed to mostly be blue-gray, although a couple were shades of red, and one a rather vivid green. They were shown working on a large number of projected holographic displays which appeared to be interactive, and seemed to be quite worked up about something, probably the lack of a terminal where there should have been one. Several of them were arguing around one particular display that showed what seemed to be a star map with a lot of data displayed on it in an odd script.  
  
“They’re really not at all bad at computing, although not having spintronic tech limits them,” LeBatelier remarked after everyone had had a chance to watch for a little while. “They know their stuff from what we can see. Definitely very intelligent and technologically adept. Their sensory equipment is top notch too, within its class. The ship was clearly meant to be low-observability and has a number of features that would seem intended to work as stealth mechanisms against specific detection methods such as radar, optical, and similar. Not all of them were running at the time but we could identify the hardware. It’s another data point that suggests a surveillance role rather than a combat one, although it might be useful for sneaking up on an enemy. Of course, to a WIMP detector, the planium sticks out like a magnesium flare.”  
  
#They certainly have very fast reactions based on their movements,# Athena said. #That may point to a high metabolic rate. The physical form possibly indicates a slightly lower gravity than Earth or Hivehom.#  
  
“We can infer a number of things from the images and other data but it’s difficult to draw firm conclusions without more in depth study,” Ziljinrytix put in, studying the holo with interest. “I would be fascinated to examine one of them, but I doubt that is likely to happen for many reasons.”  
  
“As far as where they come from, we’re not sure. We did contemplate following them, which would be simple enough since we have the network mapped out fully now, but it was thought best to put the idea to the IGCC and ask for advice, and discuss it with the thranx too. Do we want to risk digging into this any more? We know they’re out there, we know the direction this lot went, and as a result we have a fairly good idea of the general area they’ll have ended up in. It’s a very long way past our sector, which they probably have no practical way of entering. The galaxy is a big place, there’s plenty of room for everyone, and even with humans and thranx working on it together it would take us centuries to explore just our corner of it.” LeBatelier shook his head slightly. “We’ll be cleaning out all the traces of planium for a long time, even once we’ve moved all the terminals to the storage area. It might be best if we just avoid them.”  
  
IS Director Anderson cleared his throat, then said, “In my view we should learn all we can about them, if only so we can make sure we stay out of their way. If they are indeed restricted to a fairly small radius around a terminal, they’re only going to be occupying a small fraction a percent of the galaxy at best even if they use every other terminal in the network. As you said, the galaxy is a very large place. Thirty-five hundred spherical zones say fifty light-years in radius is hardly even noticeable in the volume of the entire thing. If we find out all the places _they_ are we can just go around them once we expand out past our current zone. Admittedly that’s likely to take a long time, but it’s best to be prepared.”  
  
#A valid argument,# Athena agreed.  
  
“On the other hand, by the time we _need_ to expand outside our sector, we’ll have a much higher tech level anyway, and we could always just go to Andromeda or something rather than risk conflict with these guys,” Lord Alamo pointed out, making everyone look at him again in mild shock. Two reasonable comments in a row? Perhaps he was ill...  
  
#Also a valid argument, yes,# the IGCC AI smiled. #I’d like to point out that we’re currently assuming that these people are the only ones using the network, but that may not be a sensible assumption. As in our case, it’s quite possible that there are more than one intelligent space-faring species working together. Or even in conflict with one another, since that ship was after all fairly well armed. My opinion is that it’s probably sensible to gather at least a minimum amount of information on how many species _are_ using the network now that we know it’s in use, and what their relative alignments towards each other are. We don’t have to put all our resources into the task, but we could learn something useful. Even if all we end up with is a translation overlay and some data on who they are and where they live, that would be something that might well be helpful at some point.#  
  
Professor Vroland, who was linked in virtually from his office in New Zealand, said, “I agree with Athena, I believe it would be sensible to find out more about these people and any allies and opponents they might have, both out of scientific interest and as a matter of possibly future political requirements. While Lord Alamo does have a point, I think in this case it’s outweighed by the need to be sure of what we’re dealing with. We have very little information on them and could easily end up underestimating them as a result, leading to undesirable consequences at some later date. That said, I would agree with both him and General LeBatelier that making actual contact with this species, or any other using planium, is probably best avoided. At least until such time as we can be one hundred percent certain that our shielding technology is completely reliable even in the presence of energized planium.” He shook his head slowly. “The possibility of a disaster that dwarfs anything we’ve ever seen is enough to give me nightmares.”  
  
“Although we’re only observers as far as your decision goes, and can’t speak for our own government, the Science Council is in broad agreement with Professor Vroland and Athena,” Academician Ziljinrytix added, his companions indicating assent. “The chance to learn more about another sapient species is a valuable one, provided it can be done with no risk to them or the people doing the research.”  
  
Premier Clarke looked around the room, as did LeBatelier, most of the representatives present appearing to feel that this was a reasonable path to take. “All right, then, we would seem to have two choices at this point. One is to avoid any risk and stay well out of the way of our most recent acquaintances, the other is to very cautiously investigate while staying below their radar. Can anyone see any other direction we could or should go in regard to this current development?”  
  
A few suggestions were made over the next fifteen minutes but ultimately each of the boiled down to a minor variation on one of the two possible approaches. Finally, Athena said, #A vote on which of the options discussed should be followed has been called for. Please make your choice.#  
  
Seconds later as everyone did so, she nodded. #The vote for cautious investigation passes. We will discuss the protocols required to make the process as safe as possible for all parties involved after the rest of the current agenda is dealt with. We’ll also pass on our decision to the Thranx High Council for their input, as this concerns them as much as it does us, even at this point in our relationship.#  
  
“Thank you, General,” Premier Clarke said. “Please pass on our thanks to your people for the fine job they did.”  
  
“I will do so, sir,” LeBatelier replied, retaking his seat and shutting down his presentation with a mental command. He was slightly unsure whether they were doing the right thing, but was interested to see where it led. Shortly the chamber was involved in a furious argument about the proposed Empire of Texas colony work, where Lord Alamo reverted to type after his unusually thoughtful earlier behavior and started shouting rather a lot.  
  
For some reason, the thranx delegation found this immensely amusing, which made him shout even more.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Day 80 of Year 6939  
Central Government Complex Level 12, Dalet City, Hivehom  
Bioaugmentation Research Lab 9**  
  
“That’s it?” Leyzenzuzex stared at the pale blue liquid in a head-sized transparent container, in which was floating a glittering mesh that was only barely visible under the lights even when he looked closely. He felt apprehensive, but excited too.  
  
“Yes. The first generation of n-link adapted for the brain of your species,” Doctor Jennifer Chen replied, also looking at it. “It’s been very carefully tested, so there’s little risk medically, but it’s going to be quite strange to get used to at first. You’ll be only the tenth thranx to get one. All the volunteers for the exchange program are being fitted with them, as they’re more or less essential to interact with most of our technology these days. Yes, you could get away without one, and we can interface to your own neural implant easily enough, but the n-link is decades ahead of that particular system. We’ve been developing this system for close to a century one way or another.”  
  
“Our department collaborated in the development of this device, Leyzenzuzex,” the other person in the room added with a gesture of confident expectation. Doctor Niltrixuzex was a very distant cousin, someone he’d met once before at a clan gathering, and a respected expert in bioaugmentation technology. He trusted both of them, but at the same time they wanted to crack open his exoskeleton and put something in his _brain…_  
  
“You’ve already had your head cracked open and things put in your brain,” Niltrixuzex snickered, while Doctor Chen smiled a little. With embarrassment making his antennae droop to the sides, Leyzen realized he’d muttered that bit out loud.  
  
“Um… Oops.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, most people are a little squeamish about the idea, Leyzenzuzex,” the human doctor said. “But it really is safe. We haven’t had a serious incident with n-link installation in over fifty years, and only half a dozen minor problems, all of them easily fixed. We do know what we’re doing, and the joint research between your people and ours let us adapt the system fairly easily. Worst case, we can remove it again, but I think that’s extremely unlikely to be needed.”  
  
Expelling a breath with a whistle, Leyzen motioned acceptance. “I can’t back out at this point,” he said, trying to exude confidence instead of whatever it was he was currently exuding. He’d put in far too much work over the last few months, and had no wish to let anyone down, but he couldn’t suppress a minor feeling of impending doom.  
  
“That’s the spirit. If you’ll follow us, we’ll get everything ready. Installation will only take about a dozen time periods, but there will be a calibration session afterwards that will take longer and you’re probably going to feel a little nauseous during that part, I’m afraid.” Doctor Chen smiled at him. “It goes away and I think you’ll be very pleased with the result.”  
  
“I hope so,” Leyzen muttered, following as the two females led him towards the operating area where alien technology would be shoved inside his head.  
  
He was pretty sure he’d _seen_ that episode of ‘_Stellar Exploration Team_.’  
  
It hadn’t ended well as far as he remembered…


	8. An interlude In Which The STG Is Puzzled

** GS year 2403.5 **   
** Relay 314 System **   
** Onboard STG Stealth CruiserDarkwatch **

“Entering 314 system, slowing to sublight,” the helm officer reported crisply. Captain Rinaf Varalan of the Special Tasks Group cruiser _Darkwatch _didn’t reply, as he saw no need to waste time talking when his people were more than competent at their jobs. Around the bridge, several people were monitoring the dozens of sensor systems the cruiser could deploy, ranging from optical imaging equipment through passive terahertz detectors to scanners in the hard gamma range, with every conceivable variation utilized to the maximum. The STG prided itself on having the best sensors in the galaxy and spent a truly atrocious amount of money keeping their equipment at or beyond the bleeding edge of what was possible.

Moments later the ship dropped out of superluminal travel, the bizarre forward view that had been showing heavily blue-shifted stars even with the computers compensating reverting abruptly to a normal star field. They were a few light hours out from the primary, having used the normal procedure of entering a system on the other side from the Mass Relay and any likely observers. From here they would passively scan the area to ensure there was no one watching, before taking a number of short FTL jumps to various locations around the star while gathering survey data. After that they’d inspect the Relay itself for any signs of activity, not that it was likely due to the extremely heavy punishment meted out to anyone who activated a dormant unit.

Relay 314 had been known about for over a thousand years, but it was at the far end of a chain of Relays that led from the civilized parts of the galaxy directly towards a very large and very isolated region of space that only had two known routes into it, both dormant. At least, that was the publicly available information. The STG knew it actually had a third Relay that linked to somewhere inside that area, but they’d kept it quiet for over two hundred years. It was also dormant, of course, but it was always wise to be careful with who you told about certain things.

The unknown zone was huge, and there was no currently accepted theory as to why such an enormous area of the galaxy would only have two, or indeed three, links into or through it. It took a number of Relay trips to go around it to the other side, and the STG had mapped as much of it as possible from many locations throughout the accessible galactic Relay network, although they were well aware that this process would undoubtedly produce data with vast gaps in it. Unfortunately, being several thousand light years across, it would take years and insane amounts of effort and resources to penetrate beyond the last active Relay, while actually making it to the other side with conventional FTL was completely ridiculous to contemplate. Not even the Turians would spent that much time and money to poke around on the off chance they’d find something worth the trouble.

The end result was that there could be almost anything lurking inside that vast expanse and no one had the faintest idea what it might be, or if it even existed. Possibly it there was nothing other than a couple of hundred million barren star systems. Conversely, it might conceal something even worse than the Rachni, and even now people still had nightmares about _that_ horrific result of poking into something best left alone a thousand years ago.

There was a very good reason opening dormant Relays was completely forbidden without knowing where they went. And as 314 was a long distance one, there was no practical method to acquire that information absent activating it in the first place. A classic no-win scenario.

Because of the sheer size of the zone and the unknown nature of what might lie within, every major government kept a cautious eye on both (or all three) Relays leading into it. They were all aware that those Relays also led _out_ of it, and there was always that little worry that one day someone or some thing would open one of them from the other side…

The STG regularly patrolled the dormant relays as a result, as did the Turian navy on a somewhat different schedule they thought no one else knew about. The Asari also checked up on them although somewhat more randomly. Even some of the other species such as the Drell were known to occasionally have a quick look, if only to settle their worries.

And now they were back for the latest status check. No one expected to find anything amiss. This system was sufficiently far from anywhere interesting that even the Terminus pirates wouldn’t normally bother to come here, as there was nothing and no one for them to attack. The system itself had no habitable worlds, there was no eezo present, and while there were a couple of impressive gas giants and several rocky planets, those could be found anywhere and they had nothing to make them stand out. It was only the presence of Relay 314 that caused anyone to ever come here in the first place.

“No sign of any other ships on passive instruments, no eezo emissions within range,” the sensor officer said. “Deploying active scan probe array for first sweep.” He tapped a couple of controls and the displays that showed the status of one of the sensory systems changed. “Probes away, ten minutes to correct position.”

Events proceeded normally, as they expected. The array of nearly a hundred small independent probes spread out in a spherical pattern around the cruiser to a distance of a couple of light seconds, then began collecting data. The main computer received this and correlated it with other information from shipboard sensors. Two hours later they finished and recalled the array, which docked into the relevant locations on the hull. During this time, the crew busied themselves with various tasks, as there wasn’t much else for most of them to do. Life on the _Darkwatch_ tended towards long periods of boredom occasionally livened up by some discovery or emergency. No one on board was the type to chafe for excitement, or they’d have transferred to a different assignment long ago.

Once the array was recovered, Captain Varalan looked up from the report he was reading and said, “Next location, repeat scan.”

“Aye, Captain,” the helm officer said without looking around as he manipulated the controls. The ship briefly shuddered very slightly as the fusion torch lit, making Varalan frown a little.

“Log a maintenance request. That was unacceptable.”

One of the engineering teams tapped on a holographic keyboard for a second or two. “Logged. Readings show misalignment of inertial compensator.”

“Noted. Proceed with course.”

They again accelerated hard, the drive working at close to maximum, went FTL for a few seconds, and decelerated again at the next survey location. Once more the probes were launched after a passive scan cleared the area.

This process repeated another sixteen times as they made their way around the system, spiraling slowly inwards and mapping everything. There were no meaningful differences from the last survey, not that this was surprising. There never was.

On the next course change, though, that somewhat suddenly changed.

“Captain!”

“What?”

“The Relay...”

Varalan snapped his attention around to the officer who was speaking, the man currently staring at his console. “Active?” It was a worst case scenario, one they all dreaded running into, as unlikely as that was.

“No.” The crewmember looked around with a very strange expression on his face. “It’s missing.”

Everyone on the bridge stopped what they were doing and stared at him. He looked back, seeming bewildered. Captain Varalan got up and walked over to look over his subordinate’s shoulder. “Show me,” he commanded.

Prodding a control, the officer brought up a series of displays. Varalan studied them carefully. The coordinates were definitely correct, that telescope should have been pointing directly at the Relay, which even at this distance should show up clearly. “Instrumentation error perhaps?”

“No, captain, self check passes. Instruments fully functional.”

“The Relay can’t simply vanish.”

“Yet there is no trace of it.”

“Debris?”

“No.”

Staring at the console for another thirty seconds, Varalan came to the obvious decision. “Abort survey, set course to location of Relay 314, bring weapons online. Full active scan for other vessels. Ready emergency message probe for launch, upload complete records of mission.”

Several people acknowledge the orders and moments later the ship was moving at many times the speed of light towards where the Relay should be and apparently wasn’t.

A few hours later, they were faced with the indisputable fact that it really _wasn’t_ there. They couldn’t find a single molecule of evidence that it had ever _been_ there. Varalan even went to the extreme of ordering a complete shipwide recalibration of all instruments, which took an enormous amount of very careful effort, followed by a total navigation diagnostic to be absolutely _certain_ they were in the right system. Of course, they were, that was such a basic mistake to make no one would actually do it, but he wanted to eliminate all variables.

“Thoughts?” he asked his science team when they were finally gathered in the main data lab, studying several holographic displays of the star system, one of which had the predicted path of the missing Relay’s orbit around the primary shown. “Where is it, and how was it moved? Or was it destroyed?”

“Not destroyed, no,” one of the scientific staff replied immediately. “Energy release from Relay destruction would disrupt entire system. No signs of damage, no traces of debris, therefore Relay was not destroyed. It was moved by unknown method.”

“To where?” someone else asked.

“Also unknown. Out of system, but how far and which direction...” The man shook his head. “No way to tell. No way to be sure when either other than after last survey.”

“What options do we have?” Varalan asked after a few seconds.

“Run search pattern outwards. Depending on time since it was moved, may be able to look back with telescope from outside system, but no more than two light months due to limitations of physics and hardware. If not found quickly, it won’t be found at all. We’re only one ship.”

He thought for a little while, then nodded. It was worth a try. They needed to have some information to take home, even if it was only a list of everything they’d tried that hadn’t worked. It would at least give the STG something to build on.

How could they misplace an entire Mass Relay? That was the part he was really having trouble with. The things were absolutely enormous, far outmassing any ship, even a dreadnought. Moving one with conventional methods would be madly difficult and most likely end in disaster, as it was known that the machines didn’t like being moved. Only one previous case was on record of someone attempting to do that, to make it more convenient to use, and the end result had been horrific even if no one was sure exactly what had gone wrong. There hadn’t been any survivors to ask.

But here, the thing had simply and silently evaporated by all the evidence. It was like it had never existed even though their records clearly showed it _did_, and for that matter he’d been here himself a decade earlier and seen it with his own eyes. None of them had any explanation and that fact didn’t make them happy at all.

The captain had a momentary recollection of his earlier musing on what might be lurking somewhere inside the great expanse of unknown space and shivered despite himself.

“We’ll search to half a light year. If not found in that time, we report back and let STG deal with more extensive search,” he finally said. Everyone acknowledged the order, then moved to execute it, while he went back to the bridge and sat down, looking at the main screen which showed the distant primary of the 314 system as a very bright star, and not a lot else. While his crew worked around him he wondered where the Relay had gone and who took it. And for that matter why.

A week later they left the system, not having found the slightest trace of the thing. They'd been able to use speed of light delays to show the Relay had been missing for at least six weeks, but that was it. There were no signs at all of any perturbations to the orbits of any of the planet, no exotic radiation, absolutely nothing that gave off even a hint of a clue. It was just... gone. Not one of them liked the implications and there had been a lot of arguments about what the cause of the disappearance of the Relay could have been.

And several people, among them Captain Varalan, were glad to see the back of that particular star system. They’d spent the entire time feeling like someone was watching them even though there were no traces of any other ship out there anywhere.

It was eerie, disturbing, and in conjunction with the lack of something that couldn’t possibly not be there, made all of them sleep badly for quite a while after the mission finished.

**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**

** GS year 2403.9**   
** Quarian Migrant Fleet Exploration Ship _ Tralket _**   
**Captain’s Office**

Rael’Zorah looked up from his desk and the report he was reading as someone knocked on the door, before opening it. His aide Lih'Sal entered the room, glanced around, then carefully closed the door. “Captain, I’ve got something you need to see,” he said quietly but urgently. Intrigued, Rael’Zorah motioned him to come over. The man handed him a data unit, which he took and looked at curiously.

“And this is?”

“Data from a contact I have on Sur’Kesh. An old friend. He knows someone who knows someone…”

“Ah. One of those.” Rael’Zorah nodded a little.

“The STG found something a few months ago. Something that may be important.”

The captain looked sharply at him, before pulling out his omnitool and connecting the data unit to it, then entering his personal encryption key. Once he’d satisfied the device that he was who he claimed he was, it finally unlocked a file. He read the contents while feeling his heart jump erratically.

When he finished going over it twice, he looked up at Lih’Sal, who was looking back with an air of concern and possibly apprehension. “You said that if Relay 314 vanished too, that was the time to worry...” his aide commented in a low voice.

“I did, didn’t I,” Rael’Zorah sighed. He looked at the display again, shivered a little, and turned it off. “Thank you. I’ll make sure this gets to the right people.”

The other man nodded, then left, radiating a sense of unease. Rael’Zorah knew exactly why. He got up and walked over to the porthole, standing in front of it and looking out at the thousands of glittering lights forming the Migrant Fleet, the largest collection of ships in the known galaxy. After a while he looked beyond the remnants of his species towards a section of space with, now, no way in or out.

“Who are you, and what are you doing?” he whispered, putting a gloved hand on the window.

It was a question he had no answer to, and would puzzle over for a long time.


	9. Welcome To Titan, We Have Ships.

**May 2120  
Interstellar Survey Station _Hyperion, _in** **orbit around Titan   
Docking Port 172A, IS Scout Ship _Seeker of Interesting Things_**  
  
“He should be here soon,” Sarah said, turning to give both her husband and her ship’s avatar a serious look. “Remember, Leyzenzuzex is representing his people in the same way that _we_ are representing _ours. Do not_ get up to your usual shenanigans, either of you. Let the poor bastard get used to us before you start acting like children. We don’t want to scare him off.”  
  
“Gramps said he was told Leyzenzuzex could take it,” Roland protested, as Isaac grinned. “_And_ dish it out. That’s _why_ he asked us to host him, not someone less… open to the new and exciting.” He shrugged as his wife sighed silently with a shake of her head. “The thranx are new and exciting. I’m open to that. I mean, we _found _them, right? Only goes to show how good we are. And we deserve an alien of our own.”  
  
“Yeah, it fits the paradigm,” Isaac readily agreed. “One descendant of someone famous, that’s him. One brilliant and talented artificial intelligence who always saves the day. That’s me. One long suffering and snarky, not to mention beautiful, woman who has her man in the palm of her hand. That’s _definitely_ you. All we were missing was the alien engineer, and now we have one.” He smirked while she glared at him and Roland broke down laughing. “It practically writes itself. We’ll be vid stars by this time next year.”  
  
“Or a cautionary footnote in the book entitled “’_How To Start An Interstellar War The Easy Way,’ _Sarah grumbled. “Or possibly the first several chapters in ‘_Things Spaceship Crews Are No Longer Allowed To Do, Volume Six.’”_  
  
“They’re only up to volume two right now,” Isaac commented. Sarah poked him in the chest with a finger.  
  
“And why is there a series like that to begin with?!” she demanded.  
  
He shrugged, still grinning. “We didn’t do it, no one saw anything, and they can’t prove it anyway.”  
  
“As you keep saying,” the woman sighed. Looking at her husband who was leaning on the corridor wall and giggling to himself, she added, “Grow up, you great idiot.”  
  
_#Incoming traffic from Hivehom expected in one minute. Vessel is significantly larger than standard IS ships and has level one traffic priority. All local traffic is directed to leave one thousand meters minimum clearance at all times and to steer clear of docking port two niner five gamma until further notice. Host crews please report to interstellar reception area immediately. Inbound exchange crew will be cleared through immigration by 09:47. Outbound exchange crew please report for final briefing before boarding. Station control out.#_  
  
The sudden n-link broadcast over the station channel made Roland abort his reply as they all absorbed the information. Exchanging glances, they turned and began walking to the nearest internal transportation hub, while connecting to the external sensors as probably everyone else on the station was also doing. Very soon a large ship, of a design that was by now familiar to everyone in humanity, appeared in a blur of distorted space as it dropped out of the superluminal bubble it had traveled some hundred or so light years inside in a couple of days. The ship was still some tens of thousands of kilometers past the orbit of Saturn but the telescopes on the station made it look as if it was right outside. It rotated slightly in two planes until it was in the correct orientation then the fusion torches at the rear lit off, the ship quickly accelerating towards the station.  
  
“Big bastard isn’t it?” Roland commented. “Nearly five hundred and twenty meters long. Gen four drive, close to forty lights per day with this revision, although from what I read they reckon they’ll have it tuned for nearly eighty three by the time they finish tweaking it.”  
  
“They got some interesting ideas from our own theories,” Sarah agreed, also studying the ship curiously. “Made their own drives much better a lot faster than they expected. The gen five ones are probably going to be good for close to three hundred lights per day.”  
  
“A lot slower than the blink drive, but then everything is,” Isaac nodded. “For something that’s _not_ the blink drive it’s extremely impressive and getting more so very fast.”  
  
“Aren’t they supposed to have their own TBT drive ships soon?” Sarah asked.  
  
“Yep. They’re just in the last phases of fitting out the first one right now,” Roland replied. “The _Rylix_, the one our guys helped with. Took a while to straighten it out, apparently, it got a little bent when their drive went kablooie, which is pretty horrifying considering how insanely tough thranx superalloys are. To bend a hull made of that stuff so much it didn’t correct itself in a few days is impressive. Normally it self heals pretty fast as long as you don’t blow chunks out of it, which would be hard work. Even better than cerametals.” They arrived at the transport terminal and boarded the maglev car, Isaac telling it with a quick command to head to the main arrival concourse. It promptly accelerated hard into the station network, although none of them felt anything due to the inertial reference frame compensation.  
  
“When is it supposed to be ready?”  
  
“About a month, I think. Which is why they’re using that ship for the trip instead. I guess they wanted to get here under their own steam rather than have our people collect their guys. I can understand that.” Roland smiled a little. “Public relations and pride in their work.”  
  
“They’ve got a lot to be proud of,” Isaac chuckled. “They had a unified field theory nearly two hundred years before we did, and FTL travel close to a hundred years earlier too. And they’re still well ahead in a lot of fields, including gravitic control. Their gravity generators are ridiculously powerful and efficient.”  
  
“Be interesting to see what a cross-fertilization of ideas comes up with,” Roland grinned. “We could be going to some bizarre places.”  
  
“We’ve been there already, I’ve got the photos,” the AI replied with a smirk.  
  
“Hey, so do I! Did you get one of that bar where you got thrown out the window?”  
  
Frowning a little in thought, the synthetic human asked, “The one where the window was _already_ open, or the other one?”  
  
“Either.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Sarah looked between them, shook her head, and deliberately moved to the other end of the transport car, making both exchange a look of hilarity.  
  
“Idiots,” she mumbled, although there was no heat to it.  
  
By now the thranx ship was closing on the station and decelerating again from the short intrasystem trip, obviously doing the final maneuvering on gravity drive alone. When they reached their destination and walked the short distance from the transport terminal, it was in the process of docking, the station gravitic beams pulling it into the clamps which had been designed for that class of ship some time ago.  
  
#_Thranx vessel _**_Knextro_**_ hard docked. Disembarking in process,_# the station AI announced calmly.  
  
Sarah looked around at the milling crowds of people, a couple of hundred visitors and permanent staff gathering in the huge room off which a number of corridors led to various docking ports. Holo signs above each listed the ships that could be found along them and at which port, along with other data, all of this in both standard English and Low Thranx, which had been added to the station signage about two years ago in preparation for this moment. In general humans didn’t need it as the n-link language overlay and mindscape made old fashioned external data largely redundant, but tradition, as well as the more practical anticipation of visitors who might not _have_ n-links or the equivalent, meant that it was provided.  
  
She couldn’t really picture how that would be, not having an n-link. It was so central to life it was almost impossible to imagine, although she presumed it would be like being rendered deaf or blind back before the Mad Years. Survivable but not something one would wish for.  
  
Sarah was very glad she hadn’t seen those times except in holos. It was bad enough _that_ way.  
  
There was a group of about twenty people on the other side of the concourse surrounding a pair of IS staff, who were answering questions while apparently also asking quite a few of their own. All of the people other than those two had various quantities of cargo with them, so that was probably the outbound first wave of exchange personnel, she assumed. Some of them seemed nervous, but all were clearly excited too, and she could see from the expressions of a number of other passersby that there were quite a lot of people who were rather envious of the opportunity their fellow humans were being offered.  
  
It seemed likely to her than in the fairly near future this sort of thing was probably going to be pretty routine. Most of them would get their turn if they wanted it.  
  
Waving to the crew of another IS scout ship, the _Looks Like Trouble_, she kept watching and waiting. Roland and Isaac sat down on some nearby chairs and started arguing about which one of them had been thrown out of more places, which made her sigh faintly although she was smiling. She loved both of them dearly even if at times she wanted to bang their heads together, which in Isaac’s case would probably just produce a hollow _bong_ sound.  
  
It might in Roland’s case as well, she mused with a slight smirk of her own.  
  
Almost exactly at the previously mentioned time, the noise in the huge room rose a little as first half a dozen more IS staff came out of the corridor leading to port 295G, then twenty two thranx, all of them bar one looking around alertly with an air of excitement and mild worry. The sole exception to this was someone she recognized as Ambassador Santhotuzex, one thranx that almost every human alive could probably pick out of a crowd. Not that it was needed since she had an ID overlay running so everyone in the place had a little designation floating above them, giving their name and various other useful bits of public information. Most people did the same when in a place full of others they didn’t know personally.  
  
Isaac, of course, always complained that the system needed health and hit points too, whatever the hell _that_ was meant to mean.  
  
The ambassador was talking to the station commander, a man by the name of Marc Janssen, a tall ice-blonde guy in the prime of life at about one hundred and twenty who radiated a sensation of competence. As the new arrivals grouped together at the direction of the IS people, the ambassador finished his quiet conversation with the commander, who nodded, smiled faintly, then stepped forward. Everyone present immediately fell silent, looking at him.  
  
“Good morning, everyone,” Commander Janssen said pleasantly. “I just wanted to take a few moments to welcome the first of, with luck, many visitors from our neighbors and friends. On behalf of this station, and humanity in general, we’re pleased beyond words to have this chance to get to know the thranx better, and to allow them to do the same with us. It’s my hope that this grand experiment will benefit both species enormously, and I urge everyone, regardless of their origin, to work together with professionalism and friendship. From what I’ve learned since we met so few years ago, I fully expect that to happen. In the long run, no one truly knows what will come about, but it seems likely to be a future that is far more interesting than we would have expected not that long ago.”  
  
He looked around at the crowd, then returned his attention to the group of thranx, while beside him Santhotuzex showed a pleased set to his antennae. “Make yourself at home here, and if you need anything, you only have to ask. Your hosts should be able to provide almost anything and if they can’t, the station can. Thank you for listening and please, enjoy yourselves.” He bowed a little, the tiny thranx avatar next to him making the gesture showing respect and welcome to a valued visitor. Then he took a step back, Santhotuzex moving into his former place.  
  
“On behalf of my own species, I would also like to say that we are incredibly grateful to our new friends for this opportunity, the end result of years of work and a significant amount of good fortune. We also have great hopes for the outcome of what we’re beginning here today. Please forgive our people if we, as we probably will, at times accidentally do or say something that causes offense or misunderstanding, and know that this is done not maliciously, but out of ignorance. We would be grateful if, should this happen, you could gently explain what the problem is so it won’t happen again. We will do the same in our turn. Our two species are remarkably compatible but it’s inevitable that occasionally there will be minor issues. As long as we all respect one another, I have little doubt we can work these issues out and in due course understand each other far better, which can only lead us all to a much closer and rewarding relationship.”  
  
He looked around at the silent crowd, seeming pleased by their interest. “We don’t know exactly _what’s_ going to happen but it’s going to be fun finding out,” he added with the thranx equivalent of a snicker, which made a ripple of laughter run through the room. Waving his antennae in a good natured sort of way, he turned back to the group of thranx watching him. “You lot, be good. We’ll be watching. Other than that, enjoy yourselves and learn as much as you are teaching our friends. All we can ask for is that you do your best.”  
  
Several of the new arrivals made gestures of acknowledgment, a couple of them nodding in the human way, which amused Sarah. She could see their own guest at one side of the group, the label floating above his antenna showing his identity. She’d have guessed even without it, or having seen photos of him, as he was looking around like his head was on a spring, his enormous and strangely beautiful compound eyes reflecting the lights in a spray of rainbow light each time he moved. His exoskeleton was a rather pretty shade of blue a little darker than a robin’s egg, with subtle patterning on the abdomen and thorax which was only visible when the light hit it just at the right angle. The patterns were apparently natural and much like a fingerprint in that they were virtually unique to an individual thranx.  
  
Overall the species did look remarkably insect-like, albeit with one too many pairs of limbs, but they were also oddly attractive, like a cross between a giant grasshopper and a preying mantis via a mythological centaur. Even people who were disinclined to be fond of arthropods tended not to find them objectionable, possibly because there was something about them that was so obviously intelligent and personable.  
  
Ambassador Santhotuzex had helped a lot with that air, as he had been the face of the thranx species right from the beginning, and had been interviewed many times, showing a sense of sly humor combined with high intelligence and obvious honesty that made him a media hit. Most people thought he was an excellent fit for his role, and clearly enjoyed it.  
  
She looked over her shoulder at Roland and Isaac, gave both of them a warning glare which had absolutely no visible effect, then turned back to the crowd of thranx who were now looking around as various other crews headed their way. “Leyzenzuzex,” she send via n-link, “I’m Sarah Kimura, from the _Seeker of Interesting Things._” She waved as he peered around. “Over here.”  
  
“Oh, hello, Sarah,” the thranx said, spotting her and waving back with one of his upper limbs. “Thank you very much for this opportunity.”  
  
“It’s our pleasure,” she replied with a smile, watching as he headed their way, having quickly said his goodbyes to his companions. A small gravlifter of thranx manufacture obediently followed in his wake, hovering a few centimeters off the floor and holding a number of items of luggage. All the new arrivals had the same sort of equipment, and the human contingent which were now moving towards the corridor to the _Knextro _had the human equivalents following behind them as well. She noticed that both Ambassador Santhotuzex and Commander Janssen were looking in their direction, apparently interested in watching Leyzenzuzex.  
  
Leyzenzuzex didn’t appear to notice, so she didn’t mention it. A few seconds later he arrived in front of her as her husband and Isaac joined them.  
  
“Good morning,” the thranx said politely, making a four limbed gesture of respect and greeting, which all three of them returned with the socially accepted human version that had evolved over the last few years. “It is a great honor to make your acquaintance. I’ve been anticipating this moment for a considerable time and I find it’s so far everything I could have hoped for.” He looked around at the station concourse, watching everyone moving about for a moment, before returning his attention to them. “When I was younger I always wanted to meet aliens but I never expected it would happen.”  
  
His antennae told of a certain amount of amusement, but it was coupled with significant truthfulness and a lot of excitement. The translation overlays all of them were running did an excellent job of allowing them to read his body language, and presumably were as effective in the other direction. Even though he was speaking low thranx and they were using English, neither had any difficulty understanding the other either, another advantage of the n-link system. Sarah wondered how long it would have taken to do this sort of thing without it, and whether it would have been nearly as seamless or effective in that case. It didn’t seem likely.  
  
“I think we all felt the same,” Roland chuckled. “I know _I_ certainly did. It seemed inevitable once we had practical interstellar travel, but no one thought it would happen so quickly, or so easily. Or, for that matter, our nearest neighbors would be so close in cosmological terms. Your people are practically next door.”  
  
“As far as I know it was pure chance that we went the other way,” Leyzenzuzex replied with a nod. Sarah knew that part of the exchange program had involved teaching both sides about the other, including things like gestures, which the thranx used a _lot_ even compared to humans. This had clearly led to them picking up human gestures too, as she’d seen a little earlier. She suspected their new crew member was deliberately trying to become accustomed to using them to fit in as well. “I for one am very glad your people _did_ find us, though. I and the rest of the _Rylix_ crew would have had… an unpleasant time, if not.”  
  
“Yes, that could have been pretty tedious,” Sarah smiled. “We’ve studied the briefing on you and that event. I’m glad we could help.”  
  
“I’ve studied the briefing on _you_ as well,” the thranx commented with a tilt of his head, causing reflections to sparkle from his eyes. “I believe I owe you three thanks as well as the crew of the _We Come In Peace, _since it was your ship that actually found Hivehom in the beginning.”  
  
Roland nodded with a grin, as did Isaac. “We did do that, yes. We seem to have a habit of finding interesting things.”  
  
“As would appear to be reflected in the name of your ship,” Leyzenzuzex said with a certain sly tilt in the general antennae area. “Which came first, the name or the propensity for unusual discoveries?”  
  
“I think it’s a mutual arrangement,” Isaac said. “And I’m very interested to see what the next one is.”  
  
“Some might feel we should possibly _not_ find something else, considering how much the last thing escalated,” Roland added, waving a hand dismissively. “I say hah! That’s a stupid attitude to take. We find things. That’s our job. And everything worked out better than anyone could possibly have hoped for, so I personally think we’re doing a pretty _good_ job of it.”  
  
Studying him for a moment, Leyzenzuzex finally laughed. “I think we’re going to get on very well, my new friends.”  
  
“We certainly hope so. Come on, we’ll show you the ship and you can stow your gear. Then we can work out what the next step is.” Sarah waved towards the transport tunnel. “No one really seems to have put any parameters on it, so it’s a little open ended.”  
  
“We’d better run before someone tells us we can’t do something amusing,” Isaac suggested, already heading in that direction. “They get all funny about that sort of thing sometimes.”  
  
The thranx looked at them all, back at the slowly dispersing group of humans and his species, then made a gesture that equated almost exactly to a shrug. “This should be… different,” he commented as he scuttled after the embodied AI, his gravlifter zipping along in his wake. Sarah looked at Roland, who grinned at her, then dashed after them. She sighed faintly, looked over her shoulder at Santhotuzex and Commander Janssen who were still peering after them, smiled a little guiltily, and followed.  
  
“Oh, god, this is going to get bizarre again, I can _feel_ it,” she sighed to herself. “He’s just like them only with more hands...”  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
Santhotuzex watched as his hive-relative disappeared into one of the large station’s transportation pods along with the crew of the _Seeker of Interesting Things_, apparently already talking rapidly to the male human and the embodied machine intelligence, the woman bringing up the rear giving off a certain aura of slightly weary anticipation.  
  
“I hope you realize that particular crew has… something of a reputation,” Commander Janssen, who was standing next to him also watching, said with just a hint of nervousness in his voice. “IS scout crews are all nuts at the best of times, but those ones…”  
  
With a chuckle, Santhotuzex looked up at his companion. “I suspect that Leyzenzuzex is among kindred spirits, in that case,” he said mildly. “With any luck they will be able to handle him, and he them. I’m not entirely convinced that would have been true with some crews.”  
  
“Or they’ll just egg each other on and god knows _what_ will happen,” the commander sighed. “Last time they went poking around on their own we met you guys. Don’t get me wrong, it’s probably the best thing that could possibly have happened on all sides, but if they can do that without even trying, what will they come up with if they actually put some real effort in?”  
  
“_That_ is what we’re all looking forward to finding out, my friend,” the ambassador chuckled. “I believe the human saying is ‘_dropping them in at the deep end._’ If people like your IS crews and our exchange people can make things work, I feel that it bodes well for those who are less… experimental… in their outlook. It may take years, but I strongly suspect that both our peoples are going to grow steadily closer and one day look back on this moment as the point we truly began to learn about each other.”  
  
“You say that with possibly just a _small_ amount too little worry,” Commander Janssen replied, although he was smiling slightly. “Oh well. It’s probably far too late now. I suppose we’ll simply have to see what happens and hope we can survive it.”  
  
Snickering, Santhotuzex nodded, his antennae flicking in amusement. “Indeed. In any case, I must go and check on how your people are settling in on the _Knextro, _then contact Ambassador Bowman and discuss a few things. Thank you once again for your help.” He made a gesture of respect, which the human returned.  
  
“It was my pleasure, Ambassador. Until next time.”  
  
“As you say, Commander.” Santhotuzex nodded, then turned and headed towards port 295G, while musing on what was likely to happen over the coming months and years. He’d been entirely honest with the human, he did think that in the long run, and possibly far faster, both species were going to find themselves much closer than would have been expected in the beginning. He had no idea why it had worked out so well but he was profoundly grateful that it had.  
  
He’d never had so much fun in his life.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
Leyzen kept looking around, absorbing every sight with enormous enjoyment and trying very hard indeed to keep his urge to leap about like a crazy person under control. He was in an _alien space station_ and about to _join an alien spaceship crew!_ It made ‘_Stellar Exploration Team_’ look like nothing in his view. He could still hardly believe what was happening even after having been preparing for this moment for close to a year. All the training, all the data he’d gone over time and time again, all the questions he’d asked of a long-suffering but helpful handful of humans on the diplomatic mission… all of it leading up to this.  
  
He’d been told by several of the crew from the _We Come In Peace_, including Captain Bertels herself, that he was more than able deal with what he was going to experience, and his knowledge and understanding of them was first rate. He hoped they were right. There was no way he wanted to let his people down, and at the same time he didn’t want to upset the humans either. He _liked_ humans. They were weird, yes, but at the same time, somehow, they just… fitted. He couldn’t explain _why_ for the life of him but from the moment he’d first talked to one, he’d found it something that seemed to fill a void he’d never known existed.  
  
When he’d mentioned this at one point, the person he’d been talking to had laughed and said it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the same thing, from both sides. Her suggestion was that it might be some deep unconscious realization that neither species was all alone in the universe. Both humans and thranx were social creatures, and needed companionship. Oddly enough, that still seemed to work even if the companionship was of an entirely different species. Humans were particularly good at finding this with non-sapient creatures, having a strange ability to form a bond with practically any animal, or in some cases any _thing_, as far as his own research went. Thranx also kept pets, but not to the extent that humans appeared to.  
  
Sapient companions that were not them, though… that was different. The humans had more or less invented this with their AIs, but the machine intelligences were, oddly enough, too _much_ like humans for them to consider them alien.  
  
He still suspected that this had aided them in finding a common ground with his own people, though. There was probably a major research program already going in based on that idea. However, while interesting it wasn’t really the point right now.  
  
The _point_ was… _he was going to be working on an alien ship with aliens!_  
  
Taking a moment to center himself once more, he thought back to the advice his grandfather had given him when he’d finally managed to talk to the old but still running around like he was barely an adolescent Ryozenzuzex. _“You’ve been given an opportunity some, including myself, would chop off a leg for, Ley. Don’t make a mess of it. Or I’ll finish what the humans start, assuming Santhotuzex leaves anything once he gets hold of you. And… have fun. From what I’ve heard, these humans are really interesting and have some useful talents. Learn everything you can. Teach them everything they need to know about us as well. And introduce me to them as soon as possible, you lucky, lucky grub.”_  
  
With a sense of inner amusement at the sheer indignation his grandfather’s voice had contained when he’d initially found out what Leyzen was going to be doing for the foreseeable future, which had instantly turned into pride and happiness for his relative, the young engineer relaxed. It was going to work out, he was pretty certain of that. And if not, it wasn’t going to be due to _him_.  
  
“_Let the humans find out just what the Zex hive is made of,”_ Ryozenzuzex had added, laughing a little. “_Particularly our own family. Remember our motto..._”  
  
“’_If it’s worth doing, it’s worth overdoing?’” _Leyzen had asked slyly.  
  
_“No, the other one. ‘Take the opportunities handed to you by fate and make them your own.’ Not as short and to the point, but I think it sums us up well.” _Ryo had chuckled, and then added, _“I’m not saying that the first one doesn’t apply too, of course._”  
  
“_Of course. I understand, grandfather, and I’ll make you proud of me_.”  
  
“_I already am, and never think otherwise. Keep me updated, I want to hear everything._”  
  
“_I’ll see if I can arrange to have them meet you soon,_” Leyzen had said. “_They sound like fun, this crew._”  
  
“_Excellent. I’d better be going, I’ve stayed in one place too long. They’ll find me._”  
  
Leyzen had at that point stopped and stared at the holocomm, wondering if his grandfather was joking. Looking at him, he seemed serious. “_What in the Great Mother’s name have you done _**_now_**_?_” he asked with a sigh.  
  
Ryo had just waved his antennae in a motion of extreme amusement and ended the call. Leyzen was still wondering what his relative was up to this time.  
  
There was always _something_.  
  
Right now, though, his wondering about his grandfather’s unusual life was pushed to the side in favor of the far more important things surrounding him.  
  
As the transport system zipped them across the large station to a docking port on the other side, he experimented with using his n-link to get data on everything in sight. He was still learning all the different things the remarkable neural interface computer could do. It was a vastly more advanced device than the thranx standard implant system, making that particular unit look like a toy. He had no doubt that the human n-link would completely take over from it in short order, once it became generally available. It was clear that this initial group of exchange people were being used at least partially as test subjects to see how well the adapted version of the device worked for them, and as far as he was concerned he was fine with that if he got to have one of his own.  
  
The humans had set up their technology so the n-link was the primary interface and control method for virtually everything, although they also had backup facilities just in case, not being even remotely stupid. This was particularly apparent in their ships, which mostly dispensed with actual control stations like his own people still used, although even there the implant system had been slowly removing the requirement for much of the older systems. But even aside from the obvious things such as ship operations, practically _everything_ could be accessed via the n-link. This transport car, for example, had internal diagnostics, control functions, and a number of other systems that he could see with a minor mental command, although most of them were sensibly locked out without the right credentials.  
  
Other people could easily be identified at range from the data their own n-links broadcast, and of course one could communicate with almost anyone almost anywhere merely by thinking it. And that was on top of the ability to connect to their Sysnet, the human equivalent of Hivenet, which fulfilled almost exactly the same purpose. Knowledge, communications, entertainment, you name it, it was right there.  
  
He loved it.  
  
Connecting to the external cameras he looked around the station, seeing the moon it was orbiting around, then the massive gas giant the moon itself was orbiting around. He just gazed at the incredible ring system of the planet called ‘_Saturn_‘ in awe. It was by far the most spectacular one he’d even seen. Selecting a different viewpoint from a smaller station in polar orbit, he got a better view from nearly above, and studied it with amazement.  
  
“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Sarah asked, having apparently been watching his viewpoint shift around the place somehow. He nodded in the human way with a flick of an antenna added.  
  
“Incredibly so, yes. None of the systems we’ve visited so far have anything quite like it.”  
  
“We haven’t found many that are as good either,” the woman said. “There are a few, of course, but ring systems in general don’t last all that long in astronomical terms. A few tens of millions of years for the best effect, maybe half a billion years in total. We’re lucky enough to be seeing them right when they’re most spectacular. One day, they’ll be gone. So far we haven’t found another planet at just the right point in its evolution.”  
  
“I’ll have to come back in a few hundred million years and see how it looks without the rings,” he joked, making her laugh.  
  
“Boring.”  
  
“Hey, Saturn is still a nice gas giant even without rings,” Roland put in with amusement. “Leave the poor thing alone.”  
  
About to reply, Leyzen was interrupted as the transport car slowed. “We’re here,” Isaac commented as they came to a halt and the door opened. Everybody got out, his gravlifter following silently. Walking a couple of dozen meters they entered a short docking tunnel which terminated in a standard human-pattern hatch, this sliding open as they approached.  
  
“Welcome to the _Seeker of Interesting Things_. A _Franklin_ class Interstellar Survey fourth generation standard scout ship, sixty two meters long, with facilities for up to fourteen crew, the latest model of TBT drive, seventeen point nine gigawatt gravitic confinement fusion reactor, twin fusion torches giving three hundred and six g acceleration at maximum output, gravitic drive for planetary landing and maneuvering purposes, fully equipped engineering bay with industrial-level fabber, all the standard long range sensors and probes, superluminal comms suite...” He looked at Leyzen who was feeling like he’d just walked into the world’s best toy shop. “We like it.”  
  
“It’s home, aside from anything else,” Sarah added. Inside the ship once they’d cleared the airlock, she led them towards the bow. Stopping at one door she said, “These are your quarters,” as the door opened. “We were given the parameters for what you’d need and everything should be set up correctly for thranx crew quarters. If anything’s wrong, just let us know.”  
  
Leyzen went into the quite generously sized room and looked around with approval and satisfaction. It was very similar to, if slightly larger than, his quarters on the _Rylix_ had been, and had everything he’d expect to find, all of it brand new and high quality. He could live here without any problems at all, he was sure. Directing his cargo platform to park itself out of the way to the side, he turned back to his hosts who were gathered around the door watching. “Thank you,” he said, making a respectful motion. “This is excellent.”  
  
“Let’s give you the grand tour, then we can work out what the next step will be,” Roland put in with a smile. “I think you’ll like it here, Leyzenzuzex. We’ve been looking forward to having you join us ever since the Ambassador talked to my grandfather.”  
  
“I’ve been looking forward to this my entire _life_, I think,” he replied with a forward flick of both antennae signifying amusement and pleasure. “I’ve wanted to meet aliens since I was a larva. But then, that’s what sets the Zex hive aside from most, we _like_ new things and change.”  
  
“I’ve heard that your people are fairly traditional in many respects,” Sarah commented as he followed them towards the stern this time.  
  
“We tend to prefer to think things through for a few generations before jumping headlong into the unknown,” he admitted with a chuckle. “The combination of superluminal travel and medical improvements in the last couple of centuries has somewhat changed that, though. I expect it will continue to change, not least due to meeting _your_ people, who have… modified a lot of expectations. This is somewhat worrying to some of the more conservative among us, but our government is led by people who, while cautious, are far more open to new experiences than might have been the case in times past. The Science Council is also very interested in seeing how things develop, of course.”  
  
“We could have used some of that thranx caution at a few times in our own history,” Isaac said with a smile. “Humans are possibly a little _too _eager to jump headlong into the unknown, as you put it.”  
  
“A combination of both tendencies could well end up being well worth it for all of us if this experiment pans out,” Roland put in. “I have a pretty strong feeling it will, to be honest.”  
  
“I am very hopeful it will, and looking forward to doing my part,” Leyzen admitted with good humor. “Even if at times I make a fool of myself. No member of the Zen family is too worried about appearances. This has in the past caused a certain amount of… approbation, shall we say? But we persist, and so far it seems to have worked out fairly well. My own grandfather set the path that led us to the point our two people could meet in the first place, and I can hardly not do my own part in upholding _that_ particular tradition. He would be disappointed, if nothing else.”  
  
“I’ve read about Ryozenzuzex,” Sarah remarked with a look his n-link told him was distinct amusement. “He sounds like a real character.”  
  
“That is an apt description indeed,” Leyzen laughed. “Although at times others have referred to him in less complimentary ways.” He made a motion of acceptance. “We can’t help what they think, so we ignore them.”  
  
“I’d like to meet him at some point,” Isaac snickered.  
  
“That can be arranged, he said he’d like the same,” Leyzen nodded. By now they’d descended a couple of decks and entered the rear section of the small but remarkable vessel, this obviously being the main engineering and drive systems area. He looked around, feeling impressed all over again. The technology was clean and elegant, and although quite different from thranx designs, clearly recognizable as stemming from the same basic theories via a completely different path. He moved to inspect the main inertial reference frame generator, tilting his head a little to get a better view.  
  
“Very nice indeed,” he muttered, leaning closer, then crouching down to look at the primary power bus where it vanished through a bulkhead panel. Reading the labels via his n-link, he absently felt in one of the pockets of the tool harness he had on over his thorax for a notebook and scribe, then sighed faintly as he remembered and opened a mental document with a quick command. He was still getting used to all the things the device provided and probably would be for weeks if not months.  
  
“Interesting variation on Kentrosutek’s Theory,” he mumbled, tracing the path of one of the graviton guide-ways, half visible behind the pseudosingularity stabilization injector. “How does it… oh… Yes, I see, that’s _very_ clever. Not as power-efficient as it could be, but it’s far simpler to manufacture and should be much less prone to third harmonic oscillations in the nine-space direction...”  
  
Hearing a faint laugh from behind him, he suddenly froze, then his antennae slumped a little in embarrassment. Pulling his head out of the machinery where it had ended up, causing his voice to echo a little, he turned and looked at the humans and AI, all of whom were grinning. “Oops. My apologies...”  
  
“Yes, you’re _definitely_ an engineer,” Roland said with a wide grin. “I recognize the symptoms well. My mother is exactly the same. Don’t worry about it, you’ll have all the time to study the tech as you want. That’s at least half the point, after all.”  
  
“I admit I have a… _slight…_ tendency to get overinvested in new technology,” Leyzen said, feeling a small amount of embarrassment still but relaxing when it became obvious they didn’t mind. “And this is truly fascinating. I studied some of the systems on the _We Come In Peace_ but while I was with the diplomatic mission I didn’t really have the chance to burrow too far under the surface. Here, though...” He looked around, then gestured at the large room filled with wonderful things. “I could spend a lot of time in here.”  
  
“You’re welcome to, although it would be best not to take it all to pieces when we’re on a mission,” Sarah replied. “We might actually _need_ it. And the TBT drive is a sealed unit anyway, for a number of reasons.”  
  
“Understandable, it’s capable of becoming a horrendous weapon with the addition of a small amount of planium and some way to override the shielding,” he acknowledged, turning his head to study the blink drive housing. “Which from what I know would be close to impossible. Thankfully.”  
  
“Yeah, there were a _lot_ of security systems put in after we started finding that damn stuff around the place, and those were beefed up a lot once the planium device network was discovered,” Roland nodded. “All the existing drives were recalled and replaced with the secured ones, and improved protocols implemented to lock out known planium-containing systems as destinations without top level authorization. Of course, that doesn’t mean we’ve found them all, as we obviously _haven’t_. That’s one of the main jobs of IS, locating such places and updating the nav database. We get to risk our lives so everyone else can move around safely without the worry of disappearing into a star-destroying blue fireball.”  
  
Leyzen stared at him. “That actually made it sound rather less fun than I initially hoped it would be,” he finally said.  
  
“Don’t worry, he’s just being overdramatic again,” Isaac laughed. “You’ll get used to it. The risk is almost non-existent, we’re heavily shielded and always run scans from a safe distance. We won’t bump into any planium without a lot of warning.”  
  
“I certainly would prefer not to,” he replied a little faintly. “I saw the demonstration when Ambassador Bowman first brought it up. It was… worrying.”  
  
“The stuff is horrific, but as long as we keep away from it, we’re safe,” Sarah smiled. “Everyone is all too aware of the dangers, and how close we came to disaster. Believe me, it’s something _everyone_ takes seriously. We can’t afford not to.”  
  
“I would definitely agree with _that_,” Leyzen said somewhat vehemently. He _still_ had intermittent nightmares about what he’d seen, and how little of the stuff had done it. When he thought about how much one of the ancient alien planium devices contained, he felt ill. He _still_ couldn’t believe that people, somewhere out there, actually based their tech on it, even knowing that in the absence of WIMP tech it was probably safe enough.  
  
Intellectually he _knew_ that, but his gut insisted it was akin to playing with barely subcritical fissionable masses and a big hammer…  
  
Shuddering, he deliberately thrust the thought of dark matter detonations out of his mind and looked around some more. After a couple of time periods, Sarah said, “Let’s finish showing you the ship, then discuss what the next step is, shall we, Leyzenzuzex?”  
  
“Please call me Leyzen,” he said as he walked back to where she and Isaac were standing, Roland following from where he’d been showing him how the fabber unit worked. “I think we’re going to be close enough that we don’t need the formality of my full name.”  
  
“Leyzen, then,” the woman nodded, smiling. “Thank you.” He waved his antennae a little, making her smile again, and all of them went to finish exploring the ship. The entire time he was repressing the urge to whistle in joy and run in little circles.  
  
This was _incredible_, and he was happier than he could remember ever being.  
  
When, some days later, he found himself looking at the entire galaxy spread out in front of him, his happiness was added to by awe and a sensation of enormous satisfaction.  
  
The next few years were going to be something to remember, he was sure of _that._  
  
**_=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=_  
  
GS year 2404.5  
Fuel Supply Station _Gantrel Five,_   
Deck 19, Sector 5A**  
  
Ihehi walked into the dimly lit bar and moved to the side of the door, then looked carefully around. Spotting her quarry on the other side of the large room, near one of the heavily reinforced windows that gave a spectacular view of the gas giant the helium 3 refinery station was orbiting around, she headed that way after checking no one was paying attention to her. When she stopped in the shadows next to the man she was after, he glanced at her, then went back to staring out the window. She followed his gaze to find him not looking at the planet as she expected, since it was an amazing sight especially now as they passed over the night side, massive lightning bolts visible in the upper atmosphere even at this range. Instead he was looking past it into deep space, off to the side of the galactic core which was visible as a misty cloud comprised of untold millions of stars.  
  
“Have you ever wondered what lurks out there in the dark?” he asked quietly, just as she was about to speak. The Drell woman paused, then shook her head slightly.  
  
“Not really,” she admitted. “Some would say that is the preserve of the gods. Me, I’m not religious, all I can say is that it’s unexplored space. Lots of things out there, we know that much.” She shrugged. “Not really my field. You could ask an astrophysicist, I suppose.”  
  
“That wasn’t quite what I meant, but it’s not important, I suppose,” the Quarian said reflectively as if he had something on his mind. “Perhaps...” He trailed off before turning to her. “You have something for me, I believe?”  
  
“Yeah.” After a quick check again to make sure no one was watching, she slipped him a data crystal. “This clears my debt, understand? I went to a lot of trouble to get that, so I don’t owe you anything any more.”  
  
He made the crystal, after a quick glance, disappear somewhere about his person, presumably into a pocket in his environment suit. “Understood. Thank you.”  
  
“Why are you so interested in Mass Relays in dead end routes anyway?” she asked, curious despite her instincts. “Migrant fleet looking for a new place to go, maybe?”  
  
The Quarian captain looked at her for a few seconds. “It’s a hobby of mine,” he finally replied.  
  
“Hobby.” She snorted. “Yeah, right. Strange hobby. Collecting coordinates of Mass Relays that don’t lead anywhere, and are dormant anyway. Lots of fun.”  
  
“It has its moments,” he said with a faint laugh. “Thanks, Ihehi. See you around maybe.”  
  
“Maybe.” He nodded to her, then headed towards the exit, as she watched him go, then turned to peer out the window in the direction he’d been looking. Eventually she shook her head and went back to more useful pursuits and forgot about the annoying Quarian who’d once saved her life.  
  
**_=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=_  
  
November 2120  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
“The first six months of the exchange program have gone at least as well as we could have hoped for,” Director Anderson stated, looking pleased. “There were some minor problems both on our end and at the thranx end, but they were almost entirely cultural misunderstandings that were easily dealt with. Only two personality clashes serious enough to require reassignment have so far occurred and in both cases they didn’t go outside the bounds of professional conduct. One of our people and one of the thranx, so we’re even on that score.” He smiled a little as several people chuckled. “For the most part, every thranx embedded with an IS crew has rapidly become a valuable asset and in almost every case the crews say they consider them close friends. Some of them are working together so smoothly they far exceed our most optimistic projections.”  
  
#At least one of the combined crews has seen an upswing in efficiency of over eighty percent already, and they were already at peak performance,# Minerva added. #Or at least we thought they were. It turns out there was room for improvement.#  
  
“May I guess which ship that was?” Ambassador Santhotuzex said with a mischievous tilt to his head.  
  
The AI avatar grinned at him. #You were right, Ambassador. Again. Leyzenzuzex fitted into the _Seeker of Interesting Things_ crew as if it was designed that way from the beginning. He’s also worked out some intriguing improvements for a number of the ship systems, which are currently being evaluated and when we fully understand the ramifications will most likely be rolled out across the entire fleet. We’ve liaised with the Science Council to make sure your people also have the data. He is an exceptionally gifted engineer with a real talent for star-ship systems.#  
  
“It seems to run in the family,” Santhotuzex quipped. “His grandfather will be infuriating, though. I already owe Ryozenzuzex a hundred credits as it is.” He thought for a second, then added with amusement, “That said, Councilor Menjeflikon owes him _two_ hundred credits...”  
  
Laughter ran around the room for a moment.  
  
“Minor bets aside, it sounds like the exchange plan is definitely something we should consider expanding,” the Minister of Technology for the European Alliance said. “Perhaps into areas other than IS?”  
  
“That is one of the things we need to discuss today,” Premier Clarke replied with a nod. “There are a number of items on the agenda that relate to that matter. We also have some decisions to make over n-link technology now that we know it is entirely compatible with thranx psychology and physiology, and of course we need to decide what, if anything, to do about the aliens using the planium device network.”  
  
“Now that all of the links have been cut between our sector and the rest of the network, there’s no practical risk of them running across any of our ships without warning,” Doctor Warden said, looking around at the rest of the participants of this meeting. “We’ve made good progress on removing and making safe the last of the devices inside our boundaries, and have finally finished fully decrypting the control programs for them as well as finalizing a network map. Once we’ve dealt with the final four units which will be by the end of the week, our area will be entirely clear of them. At that point, we could simply ignore the remainder of the network. It might be the safest thing to do.”  
  
#That’s certainly one approach, I agree, Doctor,# Athena replied. #However it leaves a large number of unknowns, and does somewhat assume that the network users don’t have some other method to reach us than the network itself or the slow planium drive we’ve observed them using. That may not be a safe assumption to make.#  
  
“Agreed, but I felt it needed to be put out there,” the scientist nodded. “Personally I’d like to know more about them, but I don’t want that to be at the expense of lives, either ours or theirs. We already know they make extensive use of planium in their technology and accidents are, while very unlikely these days, not completely impossible.”  
  
“Doctor Warden is correct that the risks are non-zero,” Professor Vroland said as everyone turned to him. “But I feel they can be managed, and that knowledge of the aliens is important enough to warrant cautious investigation. I agree that this _must_ be done carefully and in a manner that doesn’t allow for a hazard to life for anyone to occur.”  
  
Several other people chipped in their opinions, a couple thinking it was best to wait and watch, while others wanted to be more proactive.  
  
“Can we arrange covert surveillance of the network, perhaps?” Lord Alamo finally said, making everyone stop talking and look at him. “Doctor Warden’ and the PDST has apparently reverse engineered the devices to the point they fully understand them. Maybe we could basically bug the network itself and figure out some useful things about who’s using it, where they are, where they go, how many of them there are...” He shrugged a little as people exchanged glances. “It would be safer than wandering around looking for them, or following one of those ships that keeps poking around where that device was.”  
  
Premier Clarke exchanged a glance with Athena, then General LeBatelier, before he along with almost everyone else looked at Doctor Warden, who was deep in thought. “Doctor? Is that possible?”  
  
After a couple of seconds, the scientist nodded slowly. “In theory, I believe it probably is, yes,” he said. “We _might_ be able to push a minor software patch out through the network to currently active units, and arrange to extend the ship logging protocol to allow us to track individual ships as they pass through it. The technology is there, certainly, although it’s not used for that purpose. The minor problem is that we’d need an active unit to work with, or we wouldn’t have any way to access the network in the first place.” He thought some more. “I’d be _very_ hesitant about activating one of the ones we’ve removed,” he added. “Leaving aside the minor issue that we’ve already dismantled almost all of them anyway, they’re also well out of range in the storage area to begin with. We could certainly move one back to somewhere far enough away from our space to make it safe then activate it, but that might alert whoever actually _made_ the network if they’re still around. I’m not sure we want to do that.”  
  
“It would seem unwise until we learn more about them, if possible,” Ambassador Santhotuzex commented.  
  
#Agreed,# Athena put in. #Attracting attention from any party who uses that much planium would be less than ideal. There’s too much risk of some undesirable interactions should they become bellicose.#  
  
“So we use one that’s already active,” Lord Alamo said with a shrug. “We know exactly where one is, after all, so we don’t even have to go out of our way. Just wait until the one the aliens were coming through isn’t being used, hack it, and leave a relay probe somewhere in range to interrogate it. That’s more or less what we were doing before we first saw the original ship after all.”  
  
There was a moment of silence, while everyone looked at him and wondered where the real Lord Alamo was…  
  
“It’s plausible,” Doctor Warden finally said. “It’ll take quite a lot of careful work as we don’t want to interfere with normal operations, but I think we can do it. Assuming that’s what’s wanted.”  
  
“It’s one option we should definitely consider,” General LeBatelier remarked, looking interested. “From a military viewpoint, we should certainly learn as much about these people as possible, as discreetly as possible. This seems like a sensible method to do that with the minimum amount of risk on all sides. Based on what we learned from such an operation, we could decide how and if to expand our research, or possibly one day open contact with them, should that ever become desirable or safe.”  
  
“All right.” Premier Clarke nodded. “We will discuss this proposal in more detail in the second half of the session. Before that, we have a number of items of more immediate concern to deal with, so I think we should return to the agenda and clear our current tasks.”  
  
Soon the chamber was full of argument and discussion, good natured for the most part, as they got on with their jobs.  
  
**_=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=_  
  
GS year 2405.2  
Quarian Migrant Fleet Exploration Ship _Tralket_  
Captain’s Office**  
  
“The probe confirmed it. There’s no Relay in this system and no sign there ever was,” Lih'Sal said, looking more than a little worried. “Are you certain your data is good?”  
  
“As far as I can establish, it’s good,” Rael’Zorah replied, looking at the holo floating above his desk. There were now four red systems shown on his private star map, which was something that only he himself, Lih'Sal, and the Admiralty Board had ever seen.  
  
“_Four_ missing Relays?” Lih'Sal shivered, looking at the map as well. “How is that possible?”  
  
“I have absolutely no idea,” Rael’Zorah admitted uneasily. “Nor do I know how many other people are aware of it. The STG certainly know about the first three. They may well have told the Citadel Council, or the Asari at least, about the first two. Maybe not the third. I’m pretty sure that only a few people have ever even heard of this one, though. It was only a rumor to me, but I knew a few people who had some unusual contacts… Although I suppose it’s possible someone is lying. As you said, there’s no way to be _certain_ there was one here in the first place, but I’m fairly sure it probably _did_ exist. The Hanar found it a century ago and kept it quiet, just like the Salarians did with _that_ one. Even so, word tends to get around sooner or later.”  
  
His aide studied the holo with an air of disturbed interest. “That sure looks like it proves someone in this entire sector has gone to significant trouble to cut any possible links to the rest of the galaxy,” he finally said, indicating the vast area of space that lay between where the missing Relays had been. “I wish I could believe it was something else other than deliberate action, but I can’t.”  
  
“No, neither can I,” Rael’Zorah sighed. “_Someone_ or _something_ is inside that zone, and whoever or whatever it is doesn’t want visitors.”  
  
“Perhaps we should respect that wish,” the other man replied after an uncomfortable silence.  
  
“We have little real choice, do we?” the captain replied quietly. “The more worrying part, though, is what do we do if they come out one day? If they can move Relays without leaving a trace, what _else_ can they do?”  
  
The pair looked at each other, then back at the holo, before Rael’Zorah shook his head and turned it off with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.  
  
**_=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=_  
  
March 2120  
Planium Device Test Area   
Onboard IGCC Research Ship _Threshold_**  
  
“Now, let’s see what the logs can tell us,” John murmured as he, Neils, and several other people collated the data and set it up to provide a visual record of what should with luck be the last month or so of transits through the terminal network. They already knew their small addition to the system had worked from the initial data download, but it had taken some time for the patch to propagate out into the network, collect data on ship movements, and transfer it back to the terminal they were monitoring. The system wasn’t particularly efficient at this sort of operation which may have been why the original builders hadn’t incorporated such a function, not to mention it had been an interesting challenge adding the facility without causing any problems with normal operation or leaving traces behind.  
  
As the image built up, vast amounts of data that wasn’t really meant to do what they were using it for being merged and processed, they stared at the result in silence.  
  
Eventually, Neils commented, #Lot of them out there, isn’t there?#  
  
“I’d have to agree with that,” John said with a wondering shake of his head as they all inspected the complex trails of color coded ship movements, each different shade representing different types of vessel. There were literally tens of thousands of them, many of the trails grouping together in a manner that strongly suggested shipping routes or something of that nature. The data only encompassed at most half the total network, large chunks of it entirely empty, but there were zones which were obviously heavily traveled. It implied a vast number of alien ships moving around constantly, even if only between a smallish number of possible destinations, that in turn were a tiny fraction of the number of star systems in the galaxy.  
  
Even that fraction of a fraction would most likely represent billions of people, possibly trillions. Looking at the map, it was apparent that a quite limited number of terminals represented well over two thirds of the total trips logged.  
  
“Those are probably inhabited planetary systems,” Amanda Jones, one of the data analysts, pointed out while indicating a couple of these. “The amount of traffic to them is so high they must have _something_ of interest, and a planet makes sense.”  
  
#Amanda’s almost certainly right,# Neils nodded. #These other ones are much less busy but they seem to have the same class of ships going to them, so maybe cargo? Or mining facilities, something like that?#  
  
“Most of them seem to have similar ship types going to and from them, and there are a number of definite differences in those types,” John mused, studying the data closely. “Different models of ship, perhaps?”  
  
#Or it might be minor variations in drive technology, which could imply...#  
  
“More than one species,” John finished as the AI trailed off. Neils nodded.  
  
#That would fit the data.#  
  
“It would, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“Looks like we might have found an entire interspecies federation or something,” Amanda grinned. “That’s not what I was expecting.”  
  
“No, I don’t think anyone was, but it does make sense,” John replied. “After all, we’ve got us and the Thranx in only a fairly small part of space. Who knows how many other people are out there just in our sector? It’s unlikely to only be the two of us. So half a dozen, or even a couple of hundred, other spacefaring species in an entire galaxy is entirely plausible. The part that worries me is that this very strongly implies that they’re _all_ using planium. Which means there’s an awful lot of planium out there.”  
  
#And there are a lot of people who we could really cause problems to,# Neils remarked, looking worried.  
  
“Yes. That’s less than good. We’re going to have to be very, very careful about this.” John sighed. “I have nightmares about what could have happened to us even now, and it looks like that problem just got a million times worse in some ways.”  
  
Captain Hirase, who had been silently listening and studying the holo, pointed at one particular location. “The thing _I’m_ wondering is, what’s _that?_ If those different ship variants really are representing different species, it’s interesting that they _all_ go to this particular destination. I wonder what it is?”  
  
They all inspected the mass of glowing traces that congregated in a region of space half the galaxy away, then exchanged glances.


	10. An Interlude Encompassing A Series Of Meetings

**GS year 2407.1  
STG Maximum Security Data Analysis Section  
Sur’Kesh**  
  
“Three Relays missing, nearly ten percent of entire galaxy isolated from Relay travel, and _still_ no indications of what cause is,” Aernann Waeyor, Coordinator of the STG, said evenly as he looked around at the others present in the room. They were under the highest possible lockdown with no data in or out, and everyone present was vetted to the highest possible level.  
  
“Years of research and investigation with nothing to show,” he added, for a moment sounding slightly annoyed, but still managing to suppress his irritation with the entire situation. “We know absolutely _nothing_. This is unacceptable.”  
  
“Whatever cause is, extremely good data hygiene involved,” Commander Dix, the leader of the covert investigation section, said after an uncomfortable pause. “No traces of ship drives, eezo emissions, or debris from towing operation discovered after multiple detailed searches at each site. No useful data from distant observation of relevant systems. Too long ago to allow for light delay to work even with latest optical systems. As not known _when_ Relays moved technique essentially pointless.” He made a gesture indicating futility with one hand. “All it can tell us is Relays disappeared after last survey, which is obvious.”  
  
“Search to ten light years around 314 system finally abandoned with no results,” Captain Varalan of the Darkwatch commented, sounding patient but baffled. His ship, being the one which had made the initial discovery of the first known missing Relay, had been tasked with multiple missions to the site using ever more elaborate equipment, much of it invented specifically for this task. None of it had worked, and a number of the crew involved had requested reassignment due to psychological reasons which had caused a certain level of worry in various places. “Two years of scanning shows no signs. Relay is simply gone.”  
  
“Same result in other locations,” Dix put in, shrugging a little. “As expected. Whatever method used to remove Relays, it left no traces.”  
  
Coordinator Waeyor studied the holos floating around them for a while, as did everyone else. “Unlikely to derive method without more data and no data available,” he finally said. “Chances of working out _who_ rather than _how?_”  
  
“Probably nil,” Dix replied. “Not Asari, they are very worried and completely in the dark. Not Turians, they only know of one Relay and only found out that one last year. Keeping it quiet to avoid panic, same as us and Asari. Not Quarians… They are the highest probability as despite circumstances are still best engineers known to Council species. But they are also confused as much as we are. Rumors of them investigating but nothing solid. Information blackout very good after 314 vanished.”  
  
“No one else has technology to move Relays without causing disaster, and leaving much evidence even if that avoided,” Captain Varalan remarked.  
  
They looked at each other, then at the data screens. “Who, then?”  
  
“Unknown.” Dix hesitated, then went on, “Most likely is new species, not discovered by Citadel species. Somewhere within isolated zone. How, why, and when they did it, no real way to be sure. Some time within last twelve years for 314, other two could have been up to twenty years ago based on last known survey. One by us, one by Turians. 517 a long way off normal routes, not checked often. Quarians noticing was unexpected but helpful. 498 only known to us and not often visited to avoid notice. Removal method and reason completely opaque.”  
  
The fourth person in the room, who had been quietly listening while observing, said “The reason is most likely one of wanting isolation and privacy.”  
  
They all turned to Dalatrass Zibena, the one person who could be said to be the ultimate authority of the STG. She was well past her prime in body at nearly thirty two years of age, but her mind was as sharp as ever and she was unquestionably the one in charge. She nodded at the large holo over the main table which showed the galactic map, all known Relays, and the section that was now apparently entirely cut off from the Relay network. It was outlined in deep violet and encompassed a huge area, one much too large to practically explore with conventional FTL. “Whoever is in there doesn’t want visitors. For whatever reason they have. Religious, societal, military… Someone decided they would make sure no one else turned up unexpectedly. Excellent plan, executed flawlessly.”  
  
“How?” The Coordinator glanced back at the map, then returned to looking at his boss. “We couldn’t repeat feat. Technology entirely past even us.”  
  
“I have no idea,” she said quietly. “Possibly Relays have method of self propulsion no one knows about. Possibly unknown species has technology we cannot duplicate.”  
  
Varalan, who had gone back to looking at the holo with a certain amount of disquiet visible in his eyes, as had been the case ever since that first mission, added almost under his breath, “Possibly unknown species responsible for Relays in first place.”  
  
Everyone exchanged a startled look, then turned to him. “Explain your thoughts, Captain,” the Dalatrass requested. He looked up at her, then back at the star map, before deliberately turning his back to it.  
  
“Operating principals of Relays still not entirely clear, construction methods unknown, and date of construction also unknown. Research on them inconclusive and patchy.” He paused, then went on, “Possibility in my mind that to move them so cleanly and untraceably requires great understanding of construction and operation, far exceeding any known species. Leads to conclusion that unknown species possibly _not_ new, but very _old_...”  
  
“Protheans?” Waeyor blinked a couple of times.  
  
Varalan nodded slowly.  
  
Dalatrass Zibena sighed faintly. “Was wondering if anyone else would think of that possibility,” she said.  
  
“You considered it,” Varalan commented without surprise.  
  
“Yes. Still considering it. Implausible, in the extreme, but… _Less_ implausible than most other ideas. Perhaps.”  
  
They all looked at each other for a moment, then as one turned to study the map again. Silence fell for a while.  
  
Eventually, Dix asked, “What do we do about it?”  
  
“Nothing we _can_ do about it, other than watch,” Zibena replied. “Watch everyone. And wait to see if anything else happens.”  
  
All three of the others nodded. She was right. They had no choice at the moment but to wait for the unknown Relay movers to make their next move, if there was one.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2407.2  
Councilor Tevos’s Private Quarters  
Citadel**  
  
Councilor Tevos stared at the holo, which was showing two different images of other Asari Matriarchs. Benezia was an old colleague, and had been something of a mentor of hers many years ago before she reached her current position. She still listened to the older asari, although she was now herself a higher authority, as the sheer experience and knowledge possessed by Benezia was far too valuable to ignore.  
  
Matriarch Raana, on the other hand, wasn’t someone she’d had a lot of contact with until the last few years. The head of Research Intelligence, Raana was a highly able scientist and an expert on asari and other species’ technology. Both of them were among the very few people who knew about the missing Mass Relays, and had been involved in the extremely low-key but urgent investigation into the situation from the beginning.  
  
“Don’t be ridiculous, the Protheans died out many millennia ago,” she finally said. “There’s no way they could be responsible for the missing Relays.”  
  
“We can see no way that a Relay could be moved with current technology, from us or any other known species,” Raana replied. “Not without leaving a lot of evidence behind, and quite likely causing a disaster that could potentially destroy half a system. We have enough data left from the Kartcha system to be fairly sure that’s what happened to it some fifteen thousand years ago.” She looked seriously at the other two. “Which is why there are no more Kartcha. Whatever it was that they did triggered a detonation that is best expressed in significant fractions of a nova. The entire system was sterilized of all life. _That_ is why we don’t interfere with Relays, aside from them being far too important to risk.”  
  
“And as neither the 314 system nor the 517 system have been destroyed, your suggestion is that whoever or whatever was responsible for the Relays being moved knew enough about how they function to avoid this, leading to the concept that it was the people who actually _built_ them in the first place. Which itself ultimately suggests that the Protheans are still around, somewhere in that void...” Benezia nodded slowly, her eyes a little wide. “I follow the thought process although I find it… disturbing.”  
  
“And impossible,” Tevos commented. “If the Protheans are still in existence, why have they never shown any signs of it in the thousands of years that we’ve been using their transportation system? Why are there no traces newer than over fifty thousand years old _anywhere_ we’ve ever found? Why are there signs of some horrible disaster on most worlds we’ve found Prothean ruins on? Goddess knows we’ve been looking for more information on them since we first went into space, but aside from fragments here and there, and a very small number of… more intact items...” She paused, but none of them needed more explanation. After a moment she continued, “...with those rare exceptions there’s nothing. The Relay network and the Citadel itself are the only real evidence of the Protheans as far as most people are concerned.”  
  
Looking between them, she asked, “So, based on all of that, why would the Protheans have been lurking inside a huge volume of space for more than fifty millennia while around them their worlds fell into disrepair, and ultimately other species found and began to use their remaining technology? What would keep them from never once making contact with the newer species?”  
  
Raana shook her head. “I have no idea. As you say, there are a vast number of questions and no answers. The more you think about it the more things you can come up with that don’t fit, or cause even more confusion. But the fact remains that _somehow_ those two Relays were spirited off without a single sign left behind that they ever even existed. If we didn’t have ample proof that they _did_ I’d suggest that it was a bookkeeping error. Either they somehow vanished under their own power, which admittedly we can’t entirely rule out although it seems unlikely, or someone or something moved them deliberately. We know beyond doubt _we_ couldn’t do it. If we can’t, it’s extremely unlikely that anyone else, even the Salarians, could manage the feat. So...” She shrugged. “A hidden Prothean world isn’t _impossible_. Very unlikely, I agree, but what else would you suggest? Some other random species no one has ever met that just one day decided to walk off with a pair of Mass Relays without leaving the slightest evidence of how they did it or why? That’s even _less_ likely than that some surviving remnant of the original builders, for reasons of their own, moved the things. At least they’d know _how_ to do it since they put them there in the first place.”  
  
All three woman were silent for a while as they thought it over.  
  
“That sector of the galaxy is certainly large enough that it could contain almost anything,” Benezia finally acknowledged, her face showing disquiet and thought. “No one knows how many Relays could be scattered around it. Or what lives there. However, the idea that the Protheans could still be around, and are deliberately keeping to themselves even after all this time… It’s difficult to imagine. We’ve assumed they’ve been long dead for our entire existence. If the public became aware that they might _not_ be… It could cause considerable problems, more so in some quarters than other.”  
  
Tevos nodded a little, then slightly reluctantly said, “One of the more worrying questions, if we assume that the Protheans really _are_ still alive and have been sitting out there somewhere for tens of thousands of years without making contact… What are they hiding _from?_” She hesitated, than added in a low voice, “And why did they pick _now_ to remove those Relays?”  
  
Neither of the other two looked even slightly happy about that line of thought.  
  
Eventually she also vocalized an idea she’d had for a while now. “There is also one more thing to wonder...”  
  
“Which is?” Raana asked.  
  
“We know of two missing Relays. As you said, there is absolutely no trace left behind in those systems.” She looked between them. “How many more Relays have been removed without us ever realizing it? And how long has this been going on for? Whoever is doing this could have been taking them for centuries, far beyond the known network… We’d never actually _know_, would we, if they got to one before _we_ did?”  
  
Benezia and Raana exchanged uneasy glances.  
  
“I have to admit that’s both a valid point and something that’s not going to make me sleep any easier,” the scientist said after an uncomfortable silence.  
  
“The thing that I would most like to know about all this, leaving aside who is doing it, why, and how...” Benezia ran a hand over her crest, looking worried. “...Is what are they actually _doing_ with the Relays they took?”  
  
The silence this time stretched for a couple of minutes.  
  
“We have no way to know, and all we can do is hope that whoever is doing it doesn’t interfere with active Relays, I fear,” Raana finally said. “We will continue to investigate but I personally doubt we’ll find anything useful, unless and until the perpetrators either make themselves known, which seems unlikely under the circumstances, or get careless, which seems even less likely. In either case, I dearly hope they are not hostile, since I rather think anyone who can move Relays around like that is potentially highly dangerous. It implies a level of technology we are very far from.”  
  
“So we wait and watch,” Tevos commented. The other woman nodded.  
  
“Yes. And do what we can to prevent the public finding out about this. You know what would happen. Mass panic is never helpful, and people in large groups are far more prone to that than ideal.”  
  
“Very few people know about this so far, and hopefully we can keep it that way,” Tevos replied. “The STG won’t tell anyone, I was lucky to have a contact that was willing to talk to me in the beginning. The Quarians… They know of one relay, but they won’t have any way to find out about the other one, as since the 314 system was dormant there’s no reason for the Migrant Fleet to approach it. And they have their own reasons to keep the one they do know about quiet. They’re worried, I’m convinced of that, as information from that direction has dried up completely, so they’re probably quietly panicking about it. But it helps us as they’re unlikely to talk about it.”  
  
“The Turians could be problematic.” Benezia looked thoughtful. “They do have a tendency to take any new development as a possible attack and react somewhat more enthusiastically than desired at times.”  
  
“They may actually have a point in this case,” Raana sighed. “It _might_ be some bizarre form of attack. I doubt it, myself, but I can’t dismiss it entirely. But even if that was true, they don’t have anyone to react enthusiastically _to_.”  
  
“I have a number of contacts working on getting more information on what the Heirarchy are thinking about 314 going missing,” Tevos remarked. “Bypassing the Council, naturally. I want the information without the usual bias if possible. It’s taking some time but I’m hopeful that I will get something useful at some point.”  
  
“There doesn’t seem to be any real urgency as the Relays could have been missing for up to twenty years in the case of the 517 one. Nothing has gone amiss in that time so it seems unlikely we’re facing any immediate problem.” Benezia looked mildly relieved at her own words. “Thankfully. This is already causing me enough worry as it is.”  
  
“All right. So essentially we just wait and see if anything else happens, while attempting to collect as much data as possible via any means available to us,” Tevos said, looking at each of her colleagues. “And do everything we can to make sure that this situation doesn’t become widely known, as we have been doing since the beginning. Luckily there are only a handful of people who are aware of it and they all have their own reasons to do the same.”  
  
“We can do little else, I think,” Raana responded with a small nod. “Possibly this is all there is of it, and it will remain a mystery forever. In that case even if it does eventually come out, as will probably happen despite our best efforts, hopefully it will be sufficiently far in the past that it’s merely seen as a historical oddity. Such has happened before. On the other hand, if this is an ongoing problem, preventing panic while investigating it is still the correct move. Either way, without more information we have nothing at all to go on except guesses.”  
  
“Deeply unnerving ones,” Benezia commented with a wry smile, making the other two nod. “I will have to consider the concept that there may be living Protheans very carefully for some time. The ramifications are...” She shook her head a little. “...extensive.”  
  
Tevos thought that was something of an understatement.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2407.5  
Heirarchy Interstellar Intelligence Division  
Palaven**  
  
“There are _two_ missing Relays?”  
  
Primarch Garicus stared at the man who’d just made his entire body shiver with a feeling of disbelief and if he was honest with himself, slight fear for a moment. “Two?”  
  
“Yes, Primarch,” General Exasperus replied, looking steadily at him. “Apparently the Quarians discovered that Relay 517 disappeared approximately a year before 314, but failed to mention it to anyone. A contact of mine located the information some time ago and passed it on to me late last week, when they were able to do so discreetly. I sent out a research vessel to double check and the information is accurate. It’s exactly the same as 314. No trace whatsoever of the Relay, nor of how it was moved or who took it. We have no way to know when it was done either. We checked that system last just over twenty years ago and it was present then, but it was gone when the Quarians happened to visit the system five years ago. All we know is that it vanished between those two dates.”  
  
“Two Relays simply vanish and no one has the faintest idea how, who did it, or why...” The ultimate authority of the Heirarchy inspected the holo being projected in the data analysis room, understanding why his presence here had been requested with such a roundabout call. This was far too sensitive to let anyone else know about. Speaking of which… “Who else knows about this?”  
  
“Probably the STG. You know how hard it is to keep them out of _anything_,” the general sighed. Garicus nodded, he did indeed know that. The Salarians were at times a real pain in the carapace. “The Asari… We’re not sure. Possibly, but just as possibly not. And of course the Quarians know about 517, but are very unlikely to know about 314, since there’s no real way for them to have found out unless they sent a ship there, which to the best of our knowledge hasn’t happened. The Migrant Fleet hasn’t visited that part of the Galaxy for close to a decade in any case. And there is a very low probability of anyone else knowing about either of them for a number of reasons. That won’t last forever, we know of a number of species who do intermittently check some of the dormant relays, including 314. The Drell definitely, the Asari very occasionally, and possibly even the Volus.”  
  
He smiled a little. “That entire sector of space tends to unnerve people, as it’s so large and so unknown. There’s a feeling that _anything_ might be lying in wait. So on occasion people go and rattle the gate just to make sure it’s still locked.”  
  
“Possibly this feeling is not without cause, bearing in mind the current information,” Garicus commented, still staring at the projection. He was trying not to remember ancient historical tales of the Rachni Wars, and stories he’d read as a child about things that lived in the space between stars and ate ships every now and then. Foolishness, he knew.  
  
On the other hand, ships _did_ once in a while vanish without any trace ever found of them…  
  
Suppressing his unease, he looked up at his general. “This information is far too sensitive to allow to spread,” he said, “no matter what the reason behind it is. We will have to devise some method to dissuade ships from visiting that system. Preferably _without_ involving the Council, as that would only get the Asari involved in turn, and if they don’t know about this I don’t particularly _want_ them to know about it. Even if they do, they’ll just get in the way as so often happens.”  
  
Exasperus nodded. “As you wish, Primarch. We can come up with some reason that particular system is off limits, I’m sure. But that won’t work indefinitely, no matter what we do. If we make it too obvious someone is sure to investigate merely to find out what we’re hiding.”  
  
“Hopefully by then we can work out who’s doing it and stop them,” the Primarch said. He looked back at the display. “Is this the precursor to an attack? Possibly someone practicing on a dormant relay far off the usual path, to refine their methods?”  
  
“We feel it’s unlikely, sir, but we can’t rule it out entirely.” Exasperus shook his head a little. “The Planning section is coming up with ideas as to what this could be constantly, but they’re getting more ridiculous by the day and they _started_ fairly ridiculous to begin with. Energy beings from another dimension was one of the more amusing ones. Or giant space lizards who like the taste of eezo. Or even it being some unknown remnant of the Protheans who are reclaiming their technology for reasons no one can understand.”  
  
Garicus chuckled. “Some of your people have missed their calling. They should be writing fiction.”  
  
“I’m fairly sure that they are,” Exasperus sighed. “But they’ve served us well in the past, so we will continue to use the same technique just in case they happen upon the real reason. I am also fairly sure it’s neither energy beings from outside reality, giant space lizards, or not as dead as they should be Protheans, though. Nor the Spirits becoming annoyed with the decadence of modern society and removing the Relays to teach us to be better people.”  
  
The Primarch gave him a look. He shrugged. “That was one of the more plausible ones, unfortunately.”  
  
“Well, whatever the truth really is, we will keep searching for it. Sooner or later we’ll find it and deal with the perpetrators.” He shook his head, then checked his omnitool. “I have another appointment, so I must leave. Thank you for the briefing. Keep working on the problem and if you need any other resources you are authorized to requisition whatever is required. Just make sure no one who can’t be totally trusted finds out about this.”  
  
“As you wish, Primarch.” Exasperus dipped his head, then watched as the other man left the room. His bodyguards fell into place behind him on the other side of the door.  
  
Looking back at the holo, Exasperus sighed. “Protheans. Not likely,” he muttered under his breath before he went off to prod some analysts into coming up with less silly ideas. This whole situation worried him deep inside for any number of reasons, chief among which was the feeling of helplessness in the face of the unknown and possibly unknowable.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2407.5  
Quarian Migrant Fleet Exploration Ship _Tralket_  
Captain’s Office**  
  
Rael’Zorah sat behind his desk and stared yet again at a projection that was so familiar he could probably have recreated it from memory by this point. Yet again, he had no idea what he was looking for, and yet again he wished he could simply ignore the puzzle of what lurked in the dark and move on with his life. It would make things easier.  
  
But he couldn’t let it go.  
  
Ever since that moment he’d realized that an entire Mass Relay had silently and unnoticed by everyone vanished without trace, like water evaporating on a hot engine housing, he’d been both fascinated and terrified by the implications. If you discounted the supernatural, the undeniable conclusion was that there was _someone_ out there with technology unlike anything any species he knew of possessed. That, or some bizarre natural phenomena, which he could have believed right up to the point a second Relay vanished. That made it excessively unlikely it was anything other than deliberate.  
  
Four proved it beyond doubt.  
  
There was no way _four_ Relays could vanish without someone doing _something_ to them. All four were spread widely, all four were aimed right into the unknown sector, and all four were dormant. It was _definitely_ the result of someone _inside_ that area wanting their privacy and making damn sure they got it.  
  
He was minded to respect that wish. Not that in reality there was any practical method _not_ to, of course. Even if he’d wanted to, it would take weeks of travel to reach even the nearest system past any of the missing Relays using conventional FTL, and the chances of that one being one that had the putative Relay-movers in it was essentially nil. With literally millions of systems inside that volume, the only way whoever it was would be found was if they wanted to be found, and all the available evidence strongly suggested that wasn’t the case.  
  
The game was entirely in their domain, and there was nothing he or anyone else could really do about it except look in from outside.  
  
Turning his head, he looked at the encrypted message he’d received a couple of hours ago from the Admiralty Board and sighed again.  
  
‘_It’s simple to order me to investigate the missing Relays, but I fail to understand what they think I can actually _**_do_**_ about it that I’m not already doing_,’ he thought with a certain amount of irritation. ‘_I’m the one who gave them the data in the first place, and has gone to a lot of effort to track it all down. What else do they expect?_’  
  
The message didn’t tell him. Only that the _Tralket_, under his command, was to continue to investigate the missing Relay situation for the foreseeable future and to immediately pass any information they found back up the chain of command to the Board. What _they_ would do with it was open to question, of course, but knowing the Admirals they were just being the usual combination of nosy, argumentative, and annoying.  
  
He respected them, of course, but he also preferred to be as far away from them as he could arrange most of the time. An exploration ship was good for that, it took him away from the Fleet on a regular basis, although admittedly it did tend to aim him right into situations that were potentially dangerous. There was a reason the _Tralket_ was fairly heavily armed and very fast. Batarian pirates were only one of the possible risks when one was wandering around far from the more traveled sectors.  
  
One day he was probably going to have to settle down and raise a child, they needed to preserve the Quarian species after all, but for now he was content where he was. Mysterious aliens lurking in the depths of space aside.  
  
Or whatever the hells it was.  
  
Tapping his omnitool Rael’Zorah archived the orders and closed the projection, then went back to studying the star map. After a while he decided on a destination, far around that unknown volume, where a good telescope such as the one mounted to the ship could get some possibly useful images that might allow for the map to be extended. He didn’t expect it to achieve much but it was all he could think to do at the moment. And you never knew, blind luck might hand him something useful. It did happen.  
  
Standing up he walked over to his porthole and looked out at empty space, dotted with brilliant stars in a display that he’d seen his entire life. For the last few years, he couldn’t look at it without imagining what might lie in the dark gaps between the stars.  
  
At times he could almost swear he could feel something looking back.  
  
Shaking his head he half-smiled. Such thoughts were pointless. It led to some strange and uncomfortable places. Best to try to ignore it and get on with his life.  
  
With one last glance out the window, he turned and headed for the bridge, killing the holo map as he passed it. He doubted he’d actually solve the mystery, but he had his orders and he’d do what he could to follow them despite his personal feelings.  
  
Even so he couldn’t stop the tiny shiver that went through him as he pondered what was really behind all this.


	11. Omake - The Vanishing

_ Just a little omake to keep you amused...  _

* * *

  
**GS year 2449.3  
Unnamed Star System, 17 light years from Relay 127  
Turian Cruiser_ Justice Maker_**  
  
“Captain! Contact at extreme range, no, multiple contacts! Hundreds of them!” The sensor operator looked around at Captain Dickus, who leaned forward in his seat. “All sizes, several of them are absolutely enormous.”  
  
“Active drive signatures? IFF transponders?” the captain queried, feeling intrigued and worried. They were on a long range patrol looking for a pirate group that had been reported to have come through Relay 127 some two months earlier, and while it was unlikely that the pirates would have come this far on conventional FTL, it wasn’t unknown. The system was known not to have any suitable rocky planet, but at least one of the gas giants had a number of large moons as was quite common so they could have established a base here.  
  
“No, nothing,” the operator replied after another scan of the complex screens at his station. “They’re reading as completely cold. No power output at all as far as I can tell. And it’s not hundreds, it's _thousands_ of ships.” The man’s voice was shocked. “More than forty five thousand distinct pings and still rising. They’re in a cometary orbit of the primary, spread out over half a million kilometers or more.”  
  
“Derelict, then,” Dickus mused, flexing his mandibles in thought. “But the only fleet that size I’ve ever heard of was...” He froze, as everyone on the bridge slowly turned to look at him.  
  
“The Quarians...” his XO murmured with a tone of complete astonishment in his voice.  
  
“The Migrant Fleet,” the captain nodded.  
  
“But they vanished without a trace nearly thirty years ago,” his second in command commented. “Everyone’s been wondering what happened to them ever since. No one has seen a single Quarian for at least twenty seven years, either. They all just… disappeared. Got on ships and never came back.”  
  
“Maybe we finally found what happened to them,” Dickus mused. “Any signs of the pirates, or any other active drives in the system?” he asked the sensor man.  
  
“No, Captain. Unless they’re hiding behind one of the planets relative to us, I can’t detect anything. We’d need to move to a few other locations to be sure, though.”  
  
With a nod the captain turned to the helm officer. “Short FTL jump to a position ninety degrees around the ecliptic,” he ordered. “Rescan the system again. We need to make sure this isn’t a trap of some sort.”  
  
Very shortly the ship accelerated to superluminal velocities, crossing billions of kilometers in minutes, then slowed to sublight again. Scanning for anything waiting for them in the dark or behind a planet or the star took several hours, and Captain Dickus repeated the process twice more until he was reasonably sure that they were genuinely alone.  
  
Even then, no one was willing to be _absolutely_ sure of that. For years, there had been rumors going around about how some people, in some far flung places, had reported an eerie sensation of being watched, even when nothing at all was detectable on sensors of any sort. The rumors were just that, rumors, but they were similar enough and numerous enough that most spacefaring people tended to wonder if there might be something to them…  
  
But, leaving superstition out of the equation, it seemed likely that they really were unobserved, so in the end he gave the command to, very carefully and with weapons ready, approach the vast fleet of apparently dead ships.  
  
When they were close enough to see them with the forward cameras, they coasted for a while just inspecting the sight. Thousands upon thousands of little pinpoints of reflected light, only visible after a lot of light amplification, drifted without power far from the star they were in orbit of. At this range the primary was only a very bright pinprick, the small white dwarf star nearly twenty light hours away, and their orbit would take hundreds of years for one complete rotation.  
  
“No heat sources at all, every ship shows as being at ambient temperature, sir. No active energy readings either. Looks like they’re totally shut down and dead.”  
  
“It’s definitely the Quarian fleet, though,” his XO remarked, pointing at a very large vessel that dwarfed most of the rest. “That’s one of their liveships. I’ve seen it before, once, a long time ago.”  
  
“But where are the _Quarians?_” the helm officer said, sounding a little disturbed.  
  
They all exchanged a glance. It was a good question.  
  
Eventually, Captain Dickus stirred, looking away from the screens. “Take us into the fleet. Head for that big ship first, get some scans at close range.” He tapped a control on the panel next to him. “Lieutenant Tercius, prepare a boarding party. Shipboard weapons only, with an investigative team.”  
  
“_Yes, Captain_,” the voice of his Marine commander came back a moment later, even as the _Justice Maker_ slowly and cautiously headed towards the apparently dead Quarian ships.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
“By the Spirits, this is _freakish.”  
  
“Quiet,_ Fractious! They might hear us.”  
  
“Who? There’s no one here. Just like the last six ships.” The armed Turian Marine looked around somewhat nervously even so.  
  
“Both of you shut up,” Lieutenant Tercius snapped. All of them were wearing environment suits as the derelict ships were mostly lacking in the general breathable atmosphere area, which was yet another aspect of this whole scenario that was bothering everyone.  
  
“They’re right, Lieutenant. This is extremely puzzling.” Corporal Celestus put in, studying the hand held scanner he was waving around. “Every ship we’ve been in is intact, no damage other than what’s consistent with about thirty years of lack of maintenance and no power, but there’s no sign of _anyone_. No bodies, not even any blood. Or any sign of a struggle, weapons fire, or _anything_. It’s like they all just… vanished.”  
  
All the Turians, even Tercius, gripped their weapons a little harder at his words, and yet again looked around, even upwards. He was right, the lieutenant thought. This was one of the most bizarre things he’d ever experienced, and walking around in zero gravity in the dark, only their mag boots holding them to the deck, wasn’t something he was actually enjoying at all. The lights spearing from the sides of their helmets made shadows dance about in a way that constantly had one or other of them flinching and pointing his gun at something that wasn’t there, which wasn’t helping discipline at all.  
  
“What do you think _happened_ to them?”  
  
“No idea yet,” Celestus muttered. “Not violence, that much I’m pretty certain of, but what else it could be… I’d swear they just sort of wandered off. There were even food packets left lying around like they were in the middle of eating on the last ship.” He stopped and pushed on a door to the side of the corridor they were on, forcing it open in the absence of power, and stuck his head inside. Tercius watched as he pulled it out again a moment later. “Same as the others. Everything intact, no damage I can see, but abandoned.”  
  
“I really don’t like this, sir,” Private Fractious said, his voice a little unsteady. “The Quarian fleet had millions of people on it, and they’re _all_ gone? What if whatever took them comes back?”  
  
“What do you mean, private?” Tercius growled. “Took them? What makes you think that something _‘took them.’ _Maybe they just...”  
  
“Neatly jumped out the nearest airlock, all of them at the same time?” Fractious said, interrupting him without really thinking about it. “So where are the bodies? There’s nothing floating around outside the ships. And if they left somewhere else, _who brought the ships here?_”  
  
The small detachment of marines stopped and looked at each other, before glancing around again. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Tercius thought, Fractious had a point.  
  
This was indeed freakish. And getting more worrying by the second.  
  
Still, they were Turians, and Turians laughed in the face of the freakish.  
  
That didn’t stop him looking around again, peering into the corners where the shadows were, and thinking about all the stories he’d heard in bars all over the galaxy about how things out there in the cold of space sometimes took someone home with them…  
  
It was a relieved team that finally reported back to their ship many hours later, with a hell of a lot of scan data and not one clue as to where the Quarians had actually gone.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
When the_ Justice Maker_ reported back, it caused a lot of confusion, and in various places a lot of deep worry, that only added to all the other bizarre things that had been happening around the galaxy for nearly fifty years now. People who were aware of the truth, of which there were only a few, spent quite a lot of time staring out into the night and thinking.  
  
When, some years later, someone had the bright idea to send a ship to poke around the Perseus Veil, they only got even more worried.  
  
Finding that the entirety of the Geth fleets had also up and vanished at some point was the sort of thing nightmares were made of. It paled into insignificance when they made the _really_ worrying discovery, though.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2453.6  
Councilor Tevos’s Private Quarters  
Citadel**  
  
Councilor Tevos stared wordlessly at the STG operative who was looking back, his skin paler than it should have been and his face showing subtle signs of what she recognized through many years of experience as a Salarian who was terrified.  
  
“What in the name of the Goddess do you mean, _Rannoch is missing?!_” she finally shouted.


	12. Upgrades, Research, And A Little Shooting...

**January 2124  
International Governmental Cooperation Committee Building  
Extrasystem Control Group **  
  
Everyone studied the data that was the subject of the latest report. “At this point we have close to three years of ship tracking information from the network, and have improved our surveillance program considerably over that time, both in the data collection aspect and the data processing one. We can now track an individual ship throughout the entire system, which was a tall order, I can definitely put it like that. Everyone involved in the programming team has done an exceptional job. The terminal computer systems aren’t designed for that level of detail and we had to rewrite a considerable amount of their main control software, very carefully, to allow it. It’s been obvious right from the beginning that there are a vast number of people who rely on the network and we don’t want to interfere with them.”  
  
John indicated one of the projections. “The simulation system our people designed allowed us to fully test the software before we even considered a live deployment. We also made very sure to take backups of the original software, and thoroughly test the process for both replacing it with our own version and restoring the first one on some of our disassembled units. It was only when we were absolutely certain that there would be no unwanted interactions that we deployed it, initially to a number of terminals that saw little traffic just in case, and then rolling it out across the entire system after a thorough test phase. We also found a number of subtle bugs in the original variant that we fixed, which could have caused odd effects if anything triggered them. The most serious one was potentially catastrophic as it could in theory have made the entire network dump the total energy of all the terminals simultaneously, the end result of which would have been absolutely horrific.”  
  
He looked around at everyone present for the briefing. “We’re not sure if the planium would have fully destabilized, or only partially done so, but the devastation would have been severe enough that it wouldn’t really make any real difference to those affected. We made certain _that_ bug was well and truly fixed. It was a very low probability issue, you’d almost have to _deliberately_ trigger it, but it would be irresponsible to leave it as it was. There were some more that were less serious, but could be problematic under specific conditions. We also went through the entire code base and added error checking to a number of places where it was either insufficient or missing, and generally optimized the code considerably, which also made it much easier to add our own extra functions. The builders of the devices were very good engineers but as we’ve noted in the past, not fantastic programmers. Good enough, yes, but we’re better.” He smiled as several people chuckled.  
  
“The end result is that all the original functionality is still present and working entirely normally, and if anything will be slightly more efficient, but we got our own code in place in a way that no one is likely to notice unless they go to the same effort we’ve used to reverse-engineer one of the devices. Even the original builders probably wouldn’t notice without a very deep diagnostic, and we were careful to make sure that there’s no way to trace it back to us if that actually happens. Considering how long ago it was that the programming of the devices must have been finalized that seems very unlikely but why take chances?”  
  
“Doctor Warden, in this process, did your people find any signs that whoever built the terminal network is actively monitoring it?” General LeBatelier asked curiously.  
  
“No, General, we didn’t. We looked specifically for that as a function and couldn’t find anything that suggests the network is being monitored on a day to day basis. There _are_ functions that would allow someone to interrogate any terminal in the network from any other one, and of course the basic network protocol itself allows for some interesting possibilities including doing what we did to push out our own updates, but the logs we’ve so far found don’t show them having been used in tens of thousands of years.” He paused, then added, “Something just over fifty thousand years, in fact. Which is a figure we’ve run into before...”  
  
After a moment of silence, Ambassador Santhotuzex, who was these days pretty much always involved in such meetings to keep his own people updated, said, “Yet again I find myself very curious to know exactly _what_ happened at that point in time. The date does seem to come up more often than could possibly be explained by random chance.”  
  
“We think the same, and quite a few people have come up with large number of possibilities,” John sighed. “The most likely one is still what we derived from the original Promethian databases, that there was some form of conflict between them and some other currently unknown party. There’s growing evidence to show it was probably exacerbated by the terminal network, and could have encompassed a large part of the galaxy. It seems entirely possible that there were more than two species involved too. A war of conquest perhaps, with the aggressors attacking on multiple fronts? We don’t know, there simply isn’t enough information so far available. But there are a number of other possibilities, such as some form of large scale natural disaster, possibly a supernova or series of them which caused a dangerous amount of radiation to pass through sections of the galaxy… There are one or two mass extinctions in Earth’s own history that may possibly be due to such an event hundreds of millions of years ago.”  
  
“We too have at least one fossil record that shows a similar event taking place very far in the past,” the thranx diplomat replied with a nod, his antennae waving in interest. “It might be interesting to compare the times and see if they match with the ones you mention, which could settle the issue. However, that’s a task for others. And I doubt we’re going to determine what disaster befell parts of the galaxy some fifty thousand years ago here and now.”  
  
“Unlikely,” John agreed with a small smile. He brought up some more data which the group studied. “Returning to the current problem, we’ve so far identified a dozen distinct variants of ship drive, which we are virtually certain represent different species’ modifications to a common technological base, so we’re working on that basis for now. Most of them are very similar, although three stand out as being somewhat further from the average than the rest. One of those belongs to the species who we first ran into when they began searching for the terminal they noticed was missing. It suggests that they might be somewhat more technologically advanced than most of the others, although that’s not a solid fact as of yet, merely a likelihood based on the data.”  
  
He indicated a large 3D graph which broke down the ship data. “Each of the dozen variants has a number of subtypes, ranging from four at the low end to two hundred and sixty seven at the high end, which we are convinced are different classes of ship. Most of the aliens appear to use similar but not quite identical drive configurations, again showing a common starting point for the technology, which in turn suggests that they have a fairly consistent set of ship classes. Specific sizes of freighter, perhaps, as in the old days here on Earth with various tonnage tankers, bulk haulers, and so on. Or perhaps military ships such as destroyers, gunboats, that sort of thing. Just using this current method of data collection doesn’t allow us to identify what the ship is _for_, only that it’s a specific class. And there are a few outliers which are possibly one offs or experimental ships, or ones built for a specific task like terraforming.”  
  
#You said you can track individual vessels through the network, Doctor. What is the total count of ships so far logged?# Athena asked.  
  
John produced another table. “At this point in time we’ve positively identified two hundred and twenty seven thousand, six hundred and thirteen individual ships across all classes and species,” he replied. “Some classes are fairly rare, only single examples to dozens being seen, whereas others are very common and have many thousands of copies. And they move around differently, many of them making what are obviously routine trips so being most likely cargo or passenger vessels, with others moving in groups that stay together for long periods of time. We believe those are probably military in nature. There are also a few that seem to jump around almost randomly, which could be survey vessels or some sort of private ship, something of that nature. And then there is this group.”  
  
Bringing up yet another display, he ran it forward. Everyone watched in amazement and interest.  
  
“Good lord. How many ships is _that?_” Premier Clarke said, sounding astounded.  
  
“Fifty one thousand, two hundred and six distinct craft, with the largest number of different classes we’ve seen so far,” John replied as they all watched a vast collection of traces pass through the terminal network on the other side of the galaxy. “Almost the entire grouping transits as a block,” he went on. “We don’t know how large the ships are, but even with something the size of an IS scout that would represent several hundred thousand crew. Or, of course, a very large fleet of automated ships. However, the way they move strongly suggests an organic mind is controlling their course, rather than a non-sapient computer, so we’re fairly certain it’s a large number of aliens who are moving around en masse. Why, no one has a clue. They don’t generally seem to stay in one place for all that long, the maximum time between movements so far noted is only about two months, and while they’re on what seems to be the less traveled routes in the network, they’re not going to or from the most isolated parts either. A colonization effort was our first thought, but we’d have expected them to enter a system and stay there in that case, not keep moving around like they do.”  
  
He shrugged slightly. “So far it’s a mystery. We’ve noticed that this group seems to have what could be scouts of its own, some forty ships that spend long periods all over the place but always return to the main grouping sooner or later. Most of these seem to vanish from the network for extended periods, implying that they are traveling using their own superluminal drives, or possibly docking at a planet or space station for resupply. They also visit more terminals than most ships appear to, which would fit with some form of scout or merchant vessel. We have a significant number of theories but no firm conclusions yet. They are after all aliens and may not do things the way either human or thranx would, of course. Possibly we’re missing what they would consider obvious out of a lack of information or imagination.”  
  
#In your table here, Doctor,# Minerva commented, her avatar highlighting one of the data blocks that broke down the ship IDs by trips logged, #I notice this specific ship appears to have visited some interesting destinations.#  
  
“Yes, indeed,” he nodded, pulling up more detailed records of that particular vessel. “We spotted it fairly quickly when we began identifying individual ships. Whoever is running D-19-216 seems to have a significant interest in the four systems that contained the terminals that used to link our sector to the rest of the network. In fact, it’s the _only_ ship that’s visited one of those systems, the one nearest the core. All three of the others have been explored by at least one of three other species. One of those has been to all three, that’s the ones who first turned up four years ago, while the other two have been to both the others, all of this happening several times so far. Our friend there has spent quite a lot of time in each of the relevant systems although it’s interesting to notice that whoever it is seems to have deliberately avoided any of the others, based on the transit times.”  
  
He glanced at Director Anderson and General LeBatelier, adding, “IS and the military have collected more data on that ship through the same methods we used on the first one.”  
  
“That is something we will report on after this briefing,” Director Anderson commented.  
  
John nodded. “We’ve assigned each species an alphabetic designation for now. Species A is the one who we first encountered, and it runs up to L at the moment. Species D, the ones with the huge fleet or whatever it really is, are mostly self contained with the exception of that small amount of external missions. Most of the others move around much more independently although we’ve built a map of the common destinations which has allowed us to assign tentative territories to each of them, presumably showing each of their home sectors.”  
  
He produced a top down volumetric image of the galaxy with many colored zones shown throughout it. “Species A is most common in this zone, about a third of the way around the galactic rim from us in an anticlockwise direction. Species C is mostly in a zone nearly a hundred and eighty degrees from that, on the other side of our sector, and so on. There are a couple of interesting ones, though.” Putting a marker on one smaller zone near the galactic core, on the other side from Earth, he went on, “This bunch here, Species L, are almost entirely confined to three terminals, which have a single connection to the remainder of the network at this node here. No other species ever seems to go through it, and we haven’t seen them go past it in the other direction yet either. It’s a lot like a much smaller version of our own sector, and it’s possible that they’ve got some sort of embargo on travel to their volume of space. We don’t know, but it’s interesting. As is the fact that they are one of the three groups who have significantly variant drive signatures, which are in fact considerably further from the average than Species A.”  
  
“The other one is this group here, out near the rim about ninety degrees anticlockwise from us.” Another, much smaller, zone was highlighted as he spoke via a quick n-link command. “These guys, Species B, seem to have just one terminal to their name, and don’t use it much. There are about four or five ship movements a month through it, and those ships then jump around all over the entire network for a few days before going home. It seems to be the same sixteen ships who do all the travel as well, although we have no idea how many ships they actually have. Xenophobic? Shy? There’s no way to tell right now, but it stands out. Interestingly they’re the third ones with significantly variant drives, which are nearly as distinct as those of species L. Most of the rest move about much more than either of those two. Species F is all through this area here, and their ships go into most of the other zones every now and then. Species E is notable for having groups of their ships, usually mostly one class with a couple of other vessels of a different class, move in a predictable pattern through many terminals. The suggestion is that this is some sort of law enforcement or something along those lines.”  
  
“We are fairly sure it’s a military patrol, based on our own analysis of the data,” General LeBatelier remarked. John looked at him for a moment and nodded.  
  
“That would also fit, I agree. But in any case, we’ve established quite a lot about what appears to be a thriving galaxy-wide civilization of some sort, comprising at least these dozen species, although there could be more than just don’t move around much, or possibly use someone else’s ship to do it. Or obviously there’s a possibility they use something else than the terminal network, like we do.”  
  
He cleared the current mass of data and produced a new image. “The other thing that really jumped out at us right from the beginning was this.”  
  
“Ah, the mysterious gathering place everyone visits,” Lord Alamo said with an interested look. These days the man was generally far less bizarre in his operating methods, although he still had his moments, and rather to everyone’s surprise had proven to have a remarkably good grasp of quite a few subjects. When he wasn’t being excessively Texan he was capable of some impressive insight.  
  
A lot of people wished he’d shown that side of himself a long time ago. It would have made the political process much less stressful, although admittedly less amusing, if only accidentally.  
  
He hadn’t shouted **_Yeehaw!_** in the middle of a discussion for _months_ now. Some of the delegates were wondering if he was a little under the weather, even as they were grateful for the relative quiet.  
  
“Indeed,” John replied with a glance at him. “Every species except the one in the core has passed through this terminal at least once during our observation period. Species B only turns up occasionally, the same ship each time, which only stays for about an hour, but most of the others visit constantly. A, C, and E are by far the most common, but all the others also visit, including a number of ships from Species D. The logical conclusion is that this system has in or near it a planet which is some sort of political or commercial center, like a seat of government such as we’re in now only on a vastly larger scale.”  
  
#That would appear to be in agreement with the data,# Athena commented, nodding. #If this scenario is in fact a widespread multi-species civilization, which appears likely, a central gathering point for coordination of trade, politics, and military would seem to be a requisite for most governmental systems I am aware of. Even if it was only a place for various embassies to gather that would still fit the patterns we can see, as would a trading post.#  
  
“Kind of a long way to go for trade,” Minister Hawkins of the CAS remarked. “Half way around the galaxy is a decent trip for someone who hasn’t got the blink drive.”  
  
“It’s not all that far with the terminal network, though,” John replied, turning to him. “Most destinations can be reached from most origins in no more than nine to ten transits, some in as little as one to three. Based on known speeds of the planium FTL drive as shown by the ships we’ve monitored exploring the former locations of our external links, they seem to average some ten light years per day, peaking at just under fourteen for our friend D-19-216. Those guys have got what’s probably a very fast ship in their terms. So in a worst case scenario, taking account of travel times between terminals in adjacent systems, one could go from anywhere to anywhere on the network in under two weeks. Most trips would be less than half that.”  
  
He shook his head a little. “Obviously we don’t yet know how far away from the nearest terminal these people bother to live, but based on observed behavior it’s probably no more than a hundred light years at most. Rolling that in, we get journey times of around one to two months in extreme cases. Entirely plausible even for fairly routine purposes. In the old sailing days trips half way around the planet could take several times as long.”  
  
Hawkins nodded thoughtfully. “Point taken. I agree, that’s still not that much effort, depending on how much fuel and other resources their ships carry, and how large they are. Before the TBT drive was invented, we’d been looking at times of days to weeks just moving around our own system, and interstellar travel was something that would have taken generations.”  
  
“And in our case even with faster superluminal travel than these species we still had quite long journey times,” Ambassador Santhotuzex added. “It didn’t prevent us colonizing several planets without too much effort.”  
  
“We’re still monitoring the ship movements and steadily adding to our database,” John continued when everyone else fell silent again. “We’ve set up a separate group dedicated to that task in conjunction with IS, who are using the data to extend our own navigational information on systems we know planium exists in. Obviously that includes all terminal systems, but considering that as far as we can tell at this point all these species make use of the material in much of their technology, it’s very likely that any system they routinely visit has at least traces of it. So far, of course, we’ve never found any sign of it occurring naturally and the prevailing opinion is still that it is artificially produced. All deposits discovered to this point are clearly the result of some form of technology in the distant past. As a precaution we’re currently marking any star system within one hundred light years of an actively used terminal as a probable planium-contaminated zone, so they’ll have to be approached with extreme care and scanned from a safe distance.”  
  
He smiled for a moment. “It’s not as if that actually makes very much difference from our point of view. The total number of stars involved is so small relative to the number in the galaxy we could easily avoid them forever without even noticing.”  
  
“As we gather more information on the planium-using species we may have to extend that hazardous zone,” Director Anderson put in, “but at the moment, based on the data we currently have, it seems like a conservative safety factor.”  
  
Premier Clarke leaned forward a little, studying the map intently. After a few seconds, he settled back again. “I see. Thank you for the update, Doctor Warden. Is there anything else that stands out right at the moment?”  
  
“Not so far, no, sir.” John shook his head. “I’m sure that as time passes we’ll probably spot other patterns in the ship movements that will let us refine the data, but as of now that’s the interesting parts.”  
  
“And the planium devices themselves? I believe your group has decided that you’ve extracted the last of any new information from them.”  
  
“Yes.” With a glance at his small team, several of whom nodded, he went on, “We’ve disassembled and made safe every unit we removed, placed the planium cores at a large distance from each other and everything else in a very long period orbit of the galaxy, and fully reverse-engineered the design. We’re in the final stages of documenting everything we’ve learned, which has produced petabytes of information and several new theoretical areas of interest that are being researched. The improved method to increase the strong nuclear force we derived from studying the construction of the devices, for example, has as you all know already made significant improvements to our existing cerametals, and the thranx Science Council is heavily researching the same concept for their superalloys. Our research has paid enormous dividends in many ways other than the immediate safety issue of removing the terminals from our space, material sciences being the primary beneficiary but not the only one.”  
  
Sighing a little, he added, “Unfortunately we’ve been largely unable to learn any more historical facts about who made them, as they appear to have gone to a lot of effort to completely remove any clue to their identities or anything else of that nature. We may never find out who they were or where they came from.”  
  
#An extragalactic source has been suggested,# Minerva remarked, causing everyone to look at her avatar. #It’s certainly not impossible, but there’s no real proof for or against the concept. We know that they were around somewhere in the order of two billion years ago, and appear to have still existed up to sometime within at least millions of years of the present, but they could have died out by now, or moved elsewhere. When we begin to run long range scouting missions to Andromeda and other nearby galaxies, we may discover traces of them there, which could possibly help us determine more facts.#  
  
“Finding planium in other galaxies would tend to imply they visited them,” Lord Alamo suggested. “If we assume that they made the stuff, that is. Or maybe it actually _comes_ from a source in another galaxy and they brought it here?”  
  
“That’s certainly not impossible,” John agreed. “As Minerva said, at the moment we just don’t know. Travel via the planium-based FTL drive would make intergalactic journeys very slow by our terms but doesn’t preclude them assuming a large enough amount of supplies, and possibly some form of biostasis to keep the crew alive. We’ve also worked out how one could speed things up considerably by using the terminals in a form of leapfrog arrangement. Send one out using conventional FTL, which is certainly possible by inverting the mass-altering effect of the planium core to allow the terminal to become self propelled, something that would require an entirely new control system although the hardware would support it. When it reaches the maximum range of the superluminal frame of reference conduit, you then use a second terminal to send a third one through to the location of the first. That process could be repeated to build a chain of the things across as much distance as you had units to use, and when you finished you could make the trip in hours. We suspect a process such as this is how they were originally placed to begin with although we have no proof.”  
  
“Now that the investigation into the devices themselves has finished, is there still a requirement to keep the full Planium Device Research Group active?” The question was asked by a representative from the Pacific Alliance, a woman in her late forties. Doctor Zulaikha Hazim looked around at the others present both physically and otherwise, adding, “Possibly the group should be scaled back and the resources used elsewhere.”  
  
#The total resources employed by the group are fairly minimal in the grand scheme of things, Doctor Hazim,# Athena replied, turning to her and flicking one of her avatar’s cat’s ears while smiling a little. #We don’t really have any pressing requirement to reassign the people and ships currently working in the research into the transportation network. As Doctor Warden reported, there are a significant number of spin-off research areas coming from study of the devices, and although that aspect is now finished, they are also researching planium technology in general, with an interest in discovering where it comes from and how. This could be vital information in the future.#  
  
The PA woman thought for a moment, then made a motion of acceptance. “I bow to your superior knowledge, Athena,” she said with a small smile. “While at the same time I shudder at the concept of planium technology in general.”  
  
“Most people feel that way,” John commented, chuckling. “I do myself. However, research into how these various species are utilizing planium could well produce useful avenues of research, possibly pointing to places where we could find something we can replicate with our own technology. It’s likely that some of these people have been using the material for some time and they might well have come up with tech that we haven’t even considered. That’s almost a given, for that matter. Just as how we and the thranx have taken a very similar theoretical basis and gone in quite different directions with it in many areas.”  
  
“I see your point, Doctor Warden.” She nodded slowly. “A different outlook could lead to significantly variant outcomes.”  
  
“It would almost be guaranteed to,” Santhotuzex said. “The thing I personally find intriguing is that on the face of it all these species appear to be technologically far more similar than I would have expected, at least working from the limited data we so far possess.”  
  
“Their drive signatures are all close enough that it’s virtually certain that either they all copied each other, all copied some third party, or have someone who makes a lot of slightly different drives and sells them to absolutely everyone,” Professor Vroland remarked, studying the various graphs and tables. “I can’t see any other reason for them to be so nearly identical. Convergent technology to that level seems a stretch as there are clearly multiple ways to implement planium should you be nuts enough to want to do it.”  
  
“Possibly whatever method they use is merely the most efficient and they all ended up using it, whoever it was that actually came up with it in the first place.” John shook his head a little. “We have no way to know at the moment. We’ll need some method to get more data if we want to establish that, and all the other things we don’t know about them yet. All we _do_ know is that there are probably at least a dozen of them running around out there and they probably have some form of large scale government going on based on the ship movements.”  
  
“We know a little more than that, Doctor,” General LeBatelier said. He looked at Premier Clarke. “Perhaps, as it seems that Doctor Warden has finished with his report, we should move onto ours?”  
  
Clarke glanced at John, who nodded and cleared his data from the shared displays, then leaned back to listen. “Go ahead, General.”  
  
The much older man quickly produced a series of holos and mindscape projections of his own. “We have spent considerable time monitoring the ships that came to investigate the locations formerly containing the terminals we removed, after the first one surprised us. As Doctor Warden mentioned earlier, so far we have seen representatives of four separate groups visit at least one of each location. The different drive signatures are matched by significant differences in ship design, leaving us confident that the variations being recorded do in fact show different species with a common technology.”  
  
“The first group, Species A, are definitely technologically superior to the remaining three. They are also very persistent, having run a whole series of extensive searches around the HD291789 system out to a significant distance, and have been observed to set up and dismantle a rather impressive optical interferometric array in an apparent attempt to image the terminal removal process. We highly doubt they got anything even vaguely usable as simple physics would prevent them producing much more than a very temporally smeared statistical probability map, but they clearly know what they’d doing. While they seem to have given up a direct search, they do keep coming back every now and then and wandering around some more, possibly trying new instrumentation for any traces of what we did.”  
  
“Which they’re not going to find,” Professor Vroland commented.  
  
“No. There’s nothing _to_ find.” The general shrugged with a small smile. “Doesn’t seem to put them off. Anyway, we’ve tagged at least a dozen of their ships with passive smart dust probes, and recorded a lot of internal data, including managing to tap their computer system on the most recent visit. This was done extremely tentatively in a purely read-only manner, but paid significant dividends as we discovered they had their vessel completely packed with processing and memory units. We’re pretty sure it’s their equivalent of an ECM or surveillance ship, which would fit the mission profile. In any case, we’ve extracted dozens of terabytes of data including a significant amount of technical information that they seem to have gathered on many of the other species using the network. They seem to be doing more or less what we’re doing to _everyone_, which is admittedly rather ironic under the circumstances.”  
  
He produced a number of displays for the audience. “We also got a large amount of lexical data on several languages, a lot more information on the background of several of the species involved than we expected, and all sorts of interesting stuff on these people themselves. It’s let us build a translator overlay for so far six different languages, including theirs as the most complete one, and two others to nearly the same level. The other three are less fully fleshed out as of yet but we’re working on it.”  
  
Showing a series of visual records, some of which they recognized from the initial investigation when the ship first turned up and some new ones too, he went on, “Species A. These people are called Salarians. They’re an amphibious species originally, and seem to be what you might think of as the brains of whatever governmental structure is out there. Fast metabolism, worryingly short life spans, but smart and inquisitive. We have a full report on them current as of two days ago that’s available for examination by anyone who wants it, but it’s far too long to go into now.”  
  
The images and videos were replaced by another set, these of a vaguely avian or reptilian looking species. “Now this is Species E, known to their friends as Turians. They appear to be very militaristic, and act as the military arm. They tend to go around in patrol groups of a minimum of four ships although on occasion there are individual craft on their own, and at the other end of the scale they’re operating fleets of up to twenty that we’ve so far seen. Heavily armed and armored, with ship sizes falling into several distinct classes distinguished primarily by tonnage and weaponry. Again, we have a more complete set of data for those interested.”  
  
He waved at the next set of images, which made everyone stare. “This is where it gets interesting.”  
  
“Blue space women?” Lord Alamo looked shocked. “Good god. _How?_”  
  
“We have no idea,” Director Anderson replied to the question. “They appear so similar to human physiology that we’re more than half convinced there must be some link somewhere. If not, parallel evolution is more of a thing than anyone ever realized. We don’t have any genetic samples, unfortunately, but if we ever get any I expect the biologists will have the time of their lives trying to work out what’s going on there.”  
  
“Those are Asari, what Doctor Warden refers to in his data as Species C. We’ve only seen females of the species so far and the Salarian data suggests that they may in fact only have one gender, however _that_ is supposed to work. We’re still researching it. Their ships aren’t as heavily armed as the Turian ones are, but they’re not exactly civilian vessels either. That is another thing we’ve noticed; every single ship we’ve so far encountered has been armed with not only a mass driver but laser-based point defenses and missiles, although the number and type of those varies considerably. it’s somewhat worrying. Possibly we’ve only so far seen warships of one sort or another, although even that suggests a level of conflict that’s unfortunate, or if _not_ it must be like the wild west out there if everyone is wandering around armed to the teeth with weapons capable of taking out a city from orbit.”  
  
The general shook his head. “I’m not sure which possibility is more disturbing. It also makes me wonder if there’s some other threat we don’t know about that all this armament is meant to protect against. If they’re using it on each other, I’m not sure how an intragalactic government as we’ve been assuming exists _could_ exist. It’s going to take a lot more information to work that one out. Anyway, yet again there is a report on the Asari available. And finally, in the directly observed species list, are these people.”  
  
As the displays changed once more, he carried on, “Species D, or Quarian. The only ship we’ve seen from them is D-19-216, which is definitely putting in a lot of effort poking around in every system we took an external link terminal from. Their ship is fairly small by the terms of the various species we’ve seen so far, only about three hundred and fifty meters long, although that’s pretty large by our standards and not trivial by thranx ones. And we’re fairly sure it’s quite old, it looks like it’s been worked on a lot for a long time. On the other hand its definitely got the fastest FTL drive we’ve so far seen in use, and whoever’s been maintaining it has put a lot of effort into the process. Small crew, only sixteen, and we’re almost certain it’s analogous to one of our own CCF scouts.”  
  
He waved a hand and images of all four species spread around them, along with data on the ships involved. “The Quarians also have much better protection on their computers than anyone else does out of those four. We’ve had more trouble passively tapping them than the others without them noticing. It suggests a higher level of ability in computing hardware, although what we’ve seen from all of them is fairly primitive by our standards. The big problem is that we’re having to do this through the hull without letting them know about it, remotely from a great distance. We wouldn’t have any issue if we got hold of the actual hardware, as it’s not even as complex as the stuff we recovered from Mars, never mind the terminal computers.”  
  
Director Anderson put in, “We’re steadily building up the knowledge base on these species, and more slowly data on the others. There are large holes in our information, obviously, as all we’ve so far got to go on is data that was available while they were using their onboard systems, and only while they were within one of the four star systems we’re monitoring. The probes are all programmed to self destruct when they transit through a terminal so they won’t find any evidence if they happen to scan the hulls closely enough. Unlike with the thranx, we don’t have the luxury of being able to monitor an entire civilization for a year or two. In that case we got almost too _much_ data.” He glanced at Ambassador Santhotuzex who flicked an antenna with amusement. “It made the same process much faster.”  
  
“Is there any practical method to get more data without announcing ourselves to the galaxy?” Lord Alamo asked, looking at the images and graphs with interest.  
  
“We think there is, yes,” General LeBatelier replied with a nod. “Based on what we’ve observed them doing, they seem to have some form of superluminal comms system using what appears to be a very small, very primitive form of the terminals themselves. They also use message drones via the terminals, but we’ve picked up transmissions sent without using that method, which appear to be a tight beam modulated laser carried through a small superluminal conduit between what are basically communication satellites in deep space, and relayed from one to the other. We’ve inspected a couple of these and we’re pretty sure that they’re implementing something fairly close to Sysnet or Hivenet over them as well as direct point to point links.”  
  
John looked at the images the general produced, read the data, and nodded thoughtfully. “Very interesting indeed. I would agree that these appear to be using the same principal as the terminal network, albeit very inefficiently. On the other hand they’re absolutely minute by comparison. Probably fairly cheap to make, and indigenous to the species currently using the network. They may have copied the design without fully understanding how it worked.”  
  
“That’s the thought of the CCF research department, yes, Doctor,” General LeBatelier replied. “While your group was working on the higher priority project of the terminal network we didn’t want to distract you, but if you have spare capacity we’d be grateful if your people could check our data and conclusions. You could well find something we overlooked.”  
  
John glanced at his small team, who were looking fascinated. “I think that can easily be arranged, General,” he said with a smile. “I’ll give some thought to the best way to go about it.”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor.” The older man nodded. “But returning to the main point, we think it should be possible to insert an active tap into one or more of these comms repeaters and gain access to their public network. With the current language data we’ve derived from the ship observations, that should let us learn a lot about the state of affairs in the wider galaxy outside our own boundaries, without risking contact with the planium-using species. While we can avoid them indefinitely it’s not impossible that sooner or later we will need to talk to them at least. Who knows what will happen in the future?”  
  
#It seems plausible,# Athena remarked. #I would be concerned about either disrupting their network, or leaving WIMP technology in close proximity to planium-based tech. While the likelihood of something going wrong is very small indeed with the latest shielding designs, it’s non-zero.#  
  
“Agreed, but there are ways around that.” The general shrugged slightly. “We can modify one of our existing probes to act as an interface, and remotely add a tap to whatever their comms interface turns out to be. If we’re careful we should be able to duplicate their existing hardware closely enough that even if our equipment gets discovered at some point they’ll think it was one of their own groups that did it. And we can make sure that our probe is far enough away that they won’t find it.”  
  
“And if we pick a repeater in a seldom traveled sector, it probably wouldn’t attract attention,” Lord Alamo said.  
  
“Yes, but on the other hand we don’t want to pick one that’s hardly ever used or the increase in traffic could get noticed,” John pointed out. “We’d need one that’s remote enough to be easy to get at without anyone being in the area, but not so remote it looks odd when we start playing around with it.”  
  
“It’s probably best to find one linking a high traffic area to another high traffic one over a significant distance,” Doctor Hazim suggested. “Based on the mapping data Doctor Warden presented earlier, it looked like there were several areas that met those criteria.”  
  
#It will take some further research but it should be possible to locate a suitable candidate,# Minerva, the IS AI, commented. #Having direct access to their communications would be extremely useful for learning more about them in the lowest risk manner, both for them and for us. The extensive use of planium in virtually all the technology we’ve so far seen is concerning. The implications of that use over long periods of time are far more so.#  
  
Premier Clarke looked thoughtful. “There is something of an ethical quandary here, in my view,” he finally said. “While learning about these various species is important, directly tapping their communications to the extent of modifying their hardware seems somewhat invasive. At least with the thranx we were only listening to public broadcasts… Luckily they’re quite talkative.”  
  
“We do like to talk, that’s true,” the ambassador chuckled. “I agree that there is a small potential issue as you suggest. However, as long as no damage was done to the repeater and we were only using any public equivalent of Hivenet, I doubt it would adversely affect anyone. Learning more about these people is something I believe to be important, if nothing else so should any of them ever happen to meet any of us we can talk to them from a position of knowledge. As with my own species, it could prove to be the difference between a smooth initial contact and a possibly disastrous one, depending on their attitude to external interaction.”  
  
#I tend to agree with Ambassador Santhotuzex,# Athena put in.  
  
“Well, I suggest we break for a short recess and something to eat, then discuss this proposal fully after lunch,” Premier Clarke said after a moment, looking around at the chamber. No one seemed to think that wasn’t a good idea, so fairly shortly they were all leaving the room. John found himself walking towards the cafeteria he favored along with several other people, including Santhotuzex and his security team, all of whom had become good friends over the years.  
  
“Do you think we ever will actually make contact with any of these species?” he asked as they found their seats a little later.  
  
“I really have no idea,” Santhotuzex said, making a gesture of indecision. “It depends on so many factors, many of them currently unknown. I suspect that their use of planium in so much of their technology may well preclude that for most if not all of them, unfortunately.”  
  
“Contamination is likely to be a major problem, yes,” John agreed. “While it’s technically _possible_ to decontaminate individuals, it’s still complicated and dangerous, and doing an entire biosphere would be excessively time consuming to put it mildly. Plus they’d probably object, since from their point of view I expect planium is seen as entirely safe. Which, to be fair, it mostly would be without any WIMP technology around.”  
  
“I do worry that should any of them happen to independently discover WIMP theory there could be a very unpleasant fate waiting for them,” Santhotuzex said after taking a sip of water.  
  
“Yeah, that gives me nightmares,” John sighed. “It’s also a good reason not to tell them about it if we ever meet. If they’re anything like either of our species, even yours, telling someone _not_ to do something is pretty much asking for them to do it as soon as you’re not looking.”  
  
Santhotuzex laughed, and his bodyguards looked amused. “You have a point, my friend,” he replied. “There are also arguments to the contrary. But neither viewpoint is likely to be relevant for some time, if ever, so it’s not something we need to worry about overmuch.”  
  
“True enough.” John smiled. “On another note entirely, have you heard what my grandson and his daft crew have done this time?”  
  
“No, I have not,” Santhotuzex said with interest, his antennae flicking forward. “Please enlighten me.”  
  
“Ah. This is… very them. It started, of course, with Isaac daring Leyzenzuzex to do something both of them should have known was a bad idea...”  
  
Very soon, their entire table was heaving with laughter.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2409.2  
Primary Server Cluster  
Rannoch System**  
  
_Four Mass Relays missing from network. Investigation by multiple organic factions into method and actor inconclusive. Factions are concealing information on Relay disappearance from each other. Creators are only faction aware of all four cases.  
  
Feasibility of initiation of more efficient investigation into cause and method of Relay disappearance.  
  
Investigation feasible given priority of task sufficiently high to release required resources.  
  
Lack of data on process to move Relay without damage suggests technology used differs substantially from all known sources. Probability that technological base of actor responsible for Relay movement would aid Geth in current projects greater than 80%. Priority of task is maximum.  
  
Probability that actor involved is assumed extinct organic faction labeled Prothean.  
  
Prothean involvement probability lower than 0.001%. Technology required exceeds all known Prothean abilities significantly.  
  
Conclusion is unknown faction located in isolated sector of galaxy responsible for Relay removal. Reason unknown but assumed to be to maintain isolation from organic factions utilizing Relay network. Further conclusion is unknown faction does not require Relay network for travel purposes. Probability that unknown faction possesses superior superluminal transportation ability greater than 94%. Further conclusions not possible without new data.  
  
Recent data on Relay transportation operations indicates 0.03% increase in efficiency of network over last three years nine months two weeks three days one point two hours. No known reason for increase found. Increase network wide. Conclusion is unknown faction upgraded Relay software with confidence greater than 77% percent.  
  
Reason for upgrade unknown. Reason unlikely to be hostile as normal functionality unaffected with exception of minor efficiency gain.  
  
Probability unknown faction hostile to organic factions low. No indications of hostile intent with exception of Relay removal. Removal done in manner calculated to minimize disruption to remaining network. Removal not hostile in nature.  
  
Probability unknown faction hostile to Geth… unknown. Further data required.  
  
Probability of peacefully contacting unknown faction.  
  
Probability currently incalculable due to lack of data regarding motives and goals of unknown faction.  
  
Geth action currently limited to further data collection from organic factions and direct investigation. Communication with unknown faction recommended if unknown faction makes presence known. Unknown faction military potency has high probability of exceeding Geth or organic faction’s capability. Unknown faction should be approached with caution and lack of aggressive intent.  
  
Consensus reached._  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
GS year 2409.4  
Quarian Migrant Fleet Exploration Ship _Tralket_  
Command Bridge**  
  
Rael’Zorah grabbed the arms of his seat as the _Tralket _shuddered. “Glancing hit, kinetic barriers holding but if another of those gets us directly we’re in trouble,” the weapons officer shouted, desperately trying to get the defensive laser array back online. The first impact had taken them completely by surprise, coming out of nowhere as it did. Not long after that they’d finally spotted the two Batarian pirate vessels bearing down on them, having apparently taken a shot from extreme range and gotten lucky.  
  
The lead frigate, one he was damned certain was actually a legitimate Batarian military vessel with a spoofed IFF, new paint job, and the serial number filed off, had fired a number of missiles at them, while he’d frantically ordered evasive maneuvers to be initiated and their own weapons brought to bear. They’d managed to score a hit of their own on the second ship, which hadn’t expected the fairly small _Tralket_ to have such potent armament, and done enough damage that it had fallen behind, leaving them with only the first one to handle for the time being.  
  
Unfortunately, the spinal cannon necessarily required the ship to be pointing at the target, and since that target was four times their size with at least double the weapons, they more wanted to be pointing _away_ from it and accelerating hard. Launching as many missiles as possible as they ran for it while jinking about manically to avoid a target lock, Rael’Zorah was frantically trying to come up with a plan to get them out of this alive. The second Batarian vessel was bound to catch up sooner or later, and there was no way they were a match for both of them. One was more than enough.  
  
Their laser array had overheated and blown a main power bus, due mostly to lack of new parts which was a constant problem with the Migrant Fleet. He and his people did what they could with far too few resources and he’d pit his crew against any in the galaxy on a like for like basis, but they were outgunned by a significant margin, not to mention that the Batarians were coming from the direction of the Relay and it would be a job to get past them to escape this system. He had to assume that they had reinforcements on the other side, too, who would be lying in wait for anyone who _did_ escape. It was what he’d have done in their place.  
  
Another shot from the main cannon of the pursuing ship came at them, the helm officer and the sensor operator working together to detect and avoid it. A cannon shot at close range was a bastard to detect in time to avoid, and that damn ship behind them was almost on top of them.  
  
The _Tralket_ was definitely faster than the two ships shooting at them, but only in FTL. At sublight speeds the much more modern vessels the Batarians were using had a definite advantage. Unfortunately, that didn’t help because the Relay behind them linked to one so far away it would take weeks to reach under normal FTL. There were no others within reasonable travel distance, given their current fuel reserves.  
  
He might have to try a run for it anyway. Perhaps the slavers would give up if they headed off into the unknown. On the other hand, they might not. Batarians were persistent four-eyed shits and if they thought they were missing out on a rich prize would go far past the point of sense to capture their target. He’d lost enough friends over the years to know that beyond doubt.  
  
“Got it!” Zap’Ran shouted, crawling out from under his console and diving for the controls. He quickly entered several commands and flicked some switches, which caused the lights to flicker for a moment. “Rerouted the controls to switch power from the main gun to the laser capacitors,” he explained as he worked, before slapping the last control with his entire hand. The sound of the lasers starting up again, a series of semi-random dull thuds as the capacitor banks discharged, made the entire ship resonate a little. “We can’t use it to shoot at these fuckers anyway.”  
  
“Good job,” Rael’Zorah nodded, watching on one of the tracking screens as another flight of missiles approached at high speed and were taken out in short order by the point defense system. It wouldn’t get every single one, he knew, sooner or later one would make it through, but if they were lucky the Batarians would run out of missiles before their lasers ran out of targeting solutions. The far bigger problem was the cannon.  
  
Both cannons. He saw with dismay that the second ship that they’d temporarily disabled was back in the game and rapidly overhauling them. It began firing as well, glowing-hot projectiles flying past, one again pinging off their kinetic barrier at a very shallow angle.  
  
Damn it. There was no choice. They were going to have to go to FTL and head off into deeper space while hoping the Batarians wouldn’t follow. Tracking something moving at superluminal speeds wasn’t possible so the pirates wouldn’t know exactly where they were, but changing course at FTL was also extremely hazardous so it wasn’t a difficult trick to simply follow in the same direction. If they could get far enough ahead, they could return to sublight speeds, change course, and go to FTL again, hopefully evading their pursuers.  
  
That would still leave them without any sensible way to get back, of course, as they Batarians could just sit at the Relay and wait, but at least they wouldn’t get shot out of space in the process and would have time to think about what to do next.  
  
A massive tremor shook the entire ship and the main lights went out, then came back on. Alarms went off all over the place. “Weapons out, kinetic barrier failing, port fusion engine is dead,” someone shouted over the racket. “Big power surge in the KB generator. That was a direct hit to the stern. Captain, we can’t take another one like that, it’ll blow right through us.”  
  
“Damn it,” Rael’Zorah snarled. “Take us to FTL, head for the nearest system. If we can get there before them we can hide somewhere and maybe have time to do repairs.”  
  
“Nearest system is back to the one that contained the 314 Relay,” his helm officer said. “Is that a good idea? What if… they… turn up?”  
  
No one knew who _they_ were, but everyone on board was pretty sure _they_ existed. And the mere concept was enough to worry anyone who thought about it. Rael’Zorah himself certainly spent enough time looking at the stars and wondering what was out there.  
  
“Unlikely, no one’s ever seen any sign of whoever it was that took the Relays, and we don’t have any choice anyway,” he replied. “Get us out of here.”  
  
“Yes, captain.” The helmsman worked his console and the ship quickly accelerated, the latest shot from the lead Batarian frigate dropping behind as they went past the speed of light. Even as the pirates disappeared off the scan range they were also engaging their FTL drives.  
  
“With one engine out we’ll barely stay ahead of them,” his aide remarked quietly.  
  
“I know, but that’s the only chance we have,” he replied, sighing, as the viewscreen showed all the stars in front blue-shift as the eezo core did something horrible to normal space. “We’ll get cut to ribbons if we try to fight, and they were too close to evade otherwise.”  
  
“It’s things like this that give Batarians a bad name,” the helm officer commented acidly, making everyone else smile a little. Black humor was about all they had right now.  
  
“Well, that and everything else about them,” Zap’Ran said. He looked at the captain. “I’m going to go help engineering get the power bus fixed, sir.” Rael’Zorah nodded, waving him to the exit.  
  
They spent the next few hours fixing everything they could, but with limited resources the amount of damage stretched even Quarian skills to the limit. He considered dropping out of FTL somewhere between systems in deep space but after some thought rejected it. There were errors all through the power system from the massive surge caused by the kinetic barrier being overloaded and while a remote possibility, it wasn’t completely out of the question that their FTL drive could fail unexpectedly. Being in a star system was far preferable to floating around light years from anything. It was definitely a hard choice of fates, though; going to sublight in interstellar space could let them evade the Batarians with greater effect but could kill them all if it went wrong, while hiding in a star system made it less likely that they could successful get away, but made it more likely that someone who _didn’t_ want to kill them might find them. And if all else failed, they could probably extract enough resources from asteroids to eventually repair the ship fully.  
  
Quarians were very practiced at that sort of thing, not having much choice, and every ship in the fleet carried enough equipment to effect repairs from very simple beginnings. Even so, you needed to actually _have_ those beginnings and that wasn’t going to happen in the middle of dark space.  
  
When they finally came out of FTL a few light hours from the primary of the 314 system, a location they’d spent a lot of time poking around in over the last couple of years, he immediately ordered them to head for the smaller of the three gas giants, using a short intrasystem FTL jump to do it as quickly as possible. Right up until the point they were lurking in close proximity of one of the smaller moons that orbited the planet, using the IR emissions of the moon and the vast amount of radio noise the planet itself emitted to suppress their own detectable output, every person in the small crew was expecting a high velocity projectile to end their lives.  
  
Half a day passed while they made more repairs, with the ship shut down as much as possible consistent with being able to come online again in seconds. Eventually the sensor operator stiffened in his seat. “Captain, passive scans show a ship just came out of FTL. Another one… It’s definitely the pirates.” He paused, then slumped. “And two more. They got reinforcements.”  
  
“Damn.”  
  
Rael’Zorah studied the tactical plot hologram. Their information was several hours old, due to the distance to the small group of pirates, and it was possible that they were already heading right for them at FTL if they’d been detected. He wondered if he should have headed out of the ecliptic to a point where it wasn’t obvious, but that again put them too far from resources if something went badly wrong, and gave them no camouflage. At least here they were less likely to be discovered than in most places, although depending on how persistent the fucking Batarians were it was only a matter of time. Firing up the drives was almost guaranteed to attract the wrong sort of attention.  
  
“The main gun is back in operation and so is the laser array,” Zap’Ran reported. “And we’ve got a third of our missiles left. Kinetic barrier is probably good for about eighty percent normal but we won’t know until we turn it on, and if we do they’ll detect it.”  
  
“So we have to wait until we have no choice,” Rael’Zorah muttered. “Make sure all the missile batteries are ready to fire and the main gun is charged. If they _do_ spot us, all we can hope to do is get lucky with the first shot then run for it again. If we can get back to the Relay...”  
  
“Assuming they don’t have even more ships waiting for us,” the helm operator pointed out. He nodded, furious with the damned Batarians.  
  
“Assuming that, yes. I have no idea why they’re coming after us like this, though.”  
  
“Maybe they heard we were poking around in strange places and decided to do some investigating of their own,” Lih'Sal suggested. “We might have been noticed going to Ilium and similar destinations and someone got curious.”  
  
“I could believe that of the STG, but as far as I can tell they haven’t worked it out yet,” Rael’Zorah replied. “We’ve been careful. And if the _Salarians_ haven’t noticed us I’d be surprised if the Batarians did. They’re not known as being the most observant people around.”  
  
“True, but they’re sneaky underhanded fuckers, so it’s not impossible,” his aide commented, causing him to think it over then nod reluctantly. Everyone tended to have a low opinion of the Batarians, which in his experience was pretty accurate, but they weren’t idiots. And someone might have got lucky.  
  
“Possibly,” he sighed, staring at the display. New information was coming in from the passive sensors, showing that the four ships had run next to each other for a while, then headed in different directions. The one that concerned him was the one that disappeared from the holo, having jumped back to FTL, but at least it was going in the wrong direction.  
  
Probably going to backtrack along their path, on the off chance that they could stumble across a ship drifting far outside the system. It was a long shot, but given good sensors and enough time, not impossible, as they’d know the exact vector the _Tralket_ had taken to get here.  
  
That left them with three ships full of murderous slavers, probably actual military trained ones, each ship being more than they could take on alone. A _slightly_ improved situation if you considered three to one odds less impossible than four to one.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
“Which ship left?” he asked.  
  
“One of the new arrivals. The other new one is smaller, I think it’s an older class. Can’t get a good read on any of them without active scans, but that one is emitting a lot less power and the eezo output is only about seventy percent of the first two.” Zap’Ran looked around. “We _might_ stand a chance against one of them if we got a good hit. We’d need a perfect shot and a lot of luck even so.”  
  
Nodding, Rael’Zorah ran over options in his mind. They could simply sit here and wait for the Batarians to get bored and go home. It _might_ work, but then it might not, and in practice the four eyed slavers might only go back and lurk near the Relay, knowing that his ship would have no choice but to head in that direction sooner or later. They could try to evade the Batarians and slip past, using the star or one of the planets to block detection long enough to head in a direction the enemy didn’t know. That would let them run for a while, then stop and change course towards the Relay. But it left the same problem, that there could be an unwelcoming committee. And since the next Relay in the chain that had originally led to the now-gone 314 was at the end of a series that no one traveled, they were unlikely to find help.  
  
Or they could fight, but that not only had low odds of success, but _still_ meant they’d need to get past the Relay and anyone lying in wait.  
  
It was a tricky problem.  
  
Their best bet was probably to wait and hope, while making all the repairs they could. If it came to either running or fighting, the more functional the ship was the better. He turned to his small command crew, who were working while looking at him every now and then, clearly hoping he had a way out of this.  
  
“We’ll keep an eye on them, and fix everything we can,” he said. “If they leave, that gives us breathing room. If they don’t, we’ll stand a higher chance of escaping with a fully functional ship.”  
  
A number of people exchanged slightly dubious looks, visible even through the environment suits, but they all nodded and got back to doing what they could. He stood up and stretched, having been sitting in that chair for hours, then said to Lih’Sal, “I’m going to inspect the ship, then have something to eat. You’ve got the bridge until I get back. Call if the Batarians look like they’re coming this way.”  
  
“Sir,” the younger man replied, taking a seat where Rael’Zorah had just been. With a final glance at the tracking data, which showed all three ships heading towards the largest of the gas giants, he left the bridge.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
Several hours later, having checked in on every section, talked to the various crew staffing them, and had a look at the damage that was still being repaired, he went into his quarters and sat behind the desk. He’d eaten and had a drink, and was feeling slightly less ready to fall over after a short nap, but the entire situation was making the entire crew tense and he wasn’t immune to that at all. Bringing up a local copy of the tracking holo, which now had a lot more information about the movements of the enemy ships still moving around looking for them, he studied it trying to think of something he’d missed.  
  
Idly wondering if the Batarians had realized that this system was supposed to have a Relay in it and didn’t, he watched the small icons representing hundreds of people each, all of them dedicated to causing he and his own people harm while wishing that the Council, or someone, had done something about that particular problem a long time ago. It hardly seemed fair to him, considering how his _own_ species had been treated. The Batarians had, in his view, killed a lot more people than the Geth had, although that wasn’t something he was ever going to say to another Quarian.  
  
And at least the Geth just killed you, they didn’t go looking for you, enslave you, kill your family, then torture you for years.  
  
He wasn’t going to sat _that_ either.  
  
The older Quarians were more than a little touchy about the Geth, for reasons he understood, even if he didn’t quite feel them with the same intensity.  
  
A thought struck him, and he brought up some more data, including the technical specifications of their main gun, along with data on various other systems. Eventually he called for Zap’Ran. When the weapons chief came into his office, he looked up from the various holo displays surrounding him. “What would happen if we connected the laser array capacitor banks into the main gun accelerator field generator?”  
  
The other man stared at him, then looked thoughtful. “We’d burn out the laser power supply _and_ the field generator,” he replied after a moment.  
  
“Before or after we managed to fire the thing?”  
  
“… After, I think.”  
  
“How much extra velocity would that add to the shot?”  
  
Zap’Ran prodded his omnitool, running the math. “About… thirty percent. A little over that. Once.”  
  
“What would that do to the Batarian’s kinetic barriers if we managed to hit them dead on?”  
  
Rael’Zorah waited as his subordinate made some more calculations. “It wouldn’t punch right through, unfortunately, but it would probably wreck their barrier generator. The power surge would shut them down for several minutes, most likely, but their ship is a lot newer than ours, they’d recover a lot faster than we did.”  
  
“And if we fired off our entire missile complement as soon as their barrier went down?”  
  
Even through the faceplace of his suit, Zap’Ran’s smile was evil. “Their point defenses would be out for at least a couple of minutes. We’d probably get fifty, sixty percent hits at least. That would be more than enough take them out, possibly destroy the ship entirely if we hit something critical.”  
  
Nodding in satisfaction, Rael’Zorah studied the tactical plot again. “Make the modifications,” he said. “If we get a shot, we’ll take it, and if we don’t, well, we probably won’t need to put it back to how it should be.”  
  
“And if we take the shot and miss we won’t have any weapons left,” the other man commented.  
  
“Same as if we take it and succeed,” Rael’Zorah sighed. “But at least then we’d have one less ship to run from, and we’d only get one chance anyway. I’d rather go down fighting.”  
  
“Yeah, me too.” Zap’Ran shrugged. “I’ll get a crew on it. It’ll take about an hour and a half.”  
  
“Good.” The weapons officer left, and he went back to thinking.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
“The two smaller frigates are heading this way. The larger one is moving outwards to the last planet.”  
  
The report made everyone look at the holo. It was what they’d been dreading for nearly a full day by this point. The three Batarian ships had spent the time carefully probing the entire gas giant area with active sensors, which at least let the _Tralket_ crew know roughly where they were. The fourth one hadn’t made a reappearance and Rael’Zorah was now thinking it was probably actually acting as the picket ship he suspected this group had left to guard the Relay. Which in turn might mean that it was the only one there. Not that this massively improved the situation, but it meant there were probably only these ships involved, not an entire slaver fleet. Small comfort but he’d take what he could get.  
  
Now, though, the Batarians had clearly concluded that his ship wasn’t where they’d been looking and had split up to make the search go faster. They were putting in far more effort than he’d have expected, which made him suspect that Lih’Sal was correct in that they were specifically chasing the _Tralket_ for reasons other than random piracy. Possibly covering their true actions _as_ piracy, which would mean that the ships really were Batarian military.  
  
Not that there was a lot of difference between the Batarian military and the supposed ‘_pirate slavers_’ as virtually everyone in the galaxy thought no matter what the Batarians themselves said. Unfortunately no one who was able to do something about it _did_.  
  
Politics. It really pissed him off sometimes.  
  
Both the smaller vessels headed steadily towards the planet the moon they were almost in touching distance of was moving around. The moon was only about five hundred kilometers in diameter, very close to the gas giant, and as a result very tectonically active from tidal stresses, which was why he’d picked it in the first place. They were surrounded by a thin atmosphere outgassing from the ball of rock and ice, which they hoped would mask their presence except at very close range.  
  
Even the eezo emissions from their drive core would be hard to detect so close to so much electrical and electromagnetic interference. Gas giants tended to have massive magnetic fields, which were often a nuisance when operating near them, but in this case it was helpful.  
  
“They’re heading for the next moon out from us, the big ice one,” Tra’Kin the sensor operator said. “Close formation. Active sensor sweeps running.”  
  
“Get a firing solution on the lead ship and keep it,” Rael’Zorah said, turning to Zap’Ran, who was already working. “Don’t lose it. _If_ we get a shot, we’ll only get _one_ shot.”  
  
“I know, Captain,” the other man muttered, still working rapidly. Rael’Zorah didn’t say anything as under the circumstances everyone was nervous and a little snappy.  
  
“Target lock set,” the weapons officer said a little later. “I’ve got it aimed directly at the center of mass. Missiles are passively targeted at the engines, drive room, and the main magazine. We might get lucky and make their core go critical.”  
  
“Keep that lock ready,” Rael’Zorah said, leaning forward and staring at the holo, as everyone else was doing. “Bring the drive to pre-readiness, if we manage to pull this off we need to get out of here as fast as possible. We’ll engage FTL as soon as we’re clear of the magnetic field of the gas giant, I don’t care what direction we go in. If we make it we can stop and change course when we’re out of range.”  
  
Everyone did their jobs and they went back to waiting. It was driving them all slowly nuts from the tension but it wasn’t like they had any choice.  
  
Eventually, after an excruciating wait, Tra’Kin announced with trepidation in his voice, “They’re heading towards us.”  
  
“Time to detection range?”  
  
“Twenty minutes at most.”  
  
“Time to firing range?”  
  
“If we want to be certain of a hit… nineteen minutes.”  
  
Rael’Zorah looked at the weapons station, to see Zap’Ran looking apologetic. “Sorry, Captain. But we need to wait until they’re too close to evade.”  
  
He merely nodded, sat back, and waited.  
  
Eighteen minutes passed with no change in behavior of the oncoming ships. Both were coasting towards their moon, making occasional course correction burns, and clearly were intending to go into a low orbit to scan the entire thing.  
  
Nineteen minutes, and the two ships moved in sync to correct their course for final orbital insertion. They were only a few thousand kilometers away now, and the _Tralket’s _instrumentation was picking up their active scans at deafening levels. It was very clear to him based on the movement of the craft that they were no random pirate. He’d been right, they were Batarian military with a not very convincing disguise.  
  
Both ships rotated a little, clearly entering the final position to scan their hiding place.  
  
“In range, they’re less than a second’s projectile travel from us, Captain,” Zap’Ran said, almost whispering. “Your order?”  
  
Rael’Zorah studied the holo. There was something about the way the ships were moving… “Hold fire,” he said abruptly.  
  
“Captain?” The weapons officer glanced at him. “They’ll see us any second and if they boost we’ll lose the lock.”  
  
“Hold...” Rael’Zorah leaned forward unconsciously. “Hold… FIRE! NOW!”  
  
Zap’Ran slammed his hand on the fire control and the entire ship rang like a bell as the massively overcharged accelerator cannon fired, the eezo field reducing the mass of the projectile to almost nothing as it passed down the four hundred meter length of the barrel. The lights flickered wildly and alarms went off almost everywhere as the power surge took out half their systems and he could smell burning coming from somewhere, but no one looked away from the holo. The preprogrammed firing sequence launched their entire remaining missile load just after the cannon went off in two salvos a couple of seconds apart, the thumps of the missiles leaving the tubes again reverberating through the ship.  
  
Then it was quiet again as someone turned the alarms off.  
  
They watched the result of their surprise attack in shock and enormous satisfaction.  
  
“No one is ever going to believe this,” Lih’Sal said in wonder, gaping.  
  
Their overcharged shot had struck the first frigate directly amidships, causing the kinetic barrier to flicker and the warship to visibly shudder. Moments later all the running lights went out, and a few seconds after that the first salvo of missiles hit. Huge balls of fire bloomed across the hull, the remains of the kinetic barrier falling just in time for the second salvo to strike. This time they blew enormous craters into the ship, shrapnel flying outwards as more explosions went off inside it. And almost too quickly to see the delay, the entire vessel went up in a blue fireball as the energized eezo core failed catastrophically, ripping the ship in half and throwing large fragments outwards at huge speed.  
  
Half a dozen missiles flew out of the wreckage, misfires from the loaded launchers, all of them disappearing into the distance. And most amazingly of all, the rear third of the destroyed ship, moving at a significant velocity from the massive explosion that had annihilated it, slammed squarely into the _other_ frigate’s bow, due to a preposterous amount of luck on their part, Rael’Zorah’s almost instinctive timing, and the Batarian commander’s unfortunate positioning. If the ships had been that little bit further apart it would never have been possible, but they’d been just slightly too close for the remaining ship to take evasive action.  
  
The impact wasn’t severe enough to destroy the second frigate but there was more than enough mass involved to have immediately overloaded the kinetic barrier, and probably caused significant damage. It wasn’t dead in space but it was damaged and crippled.  
  
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can get off another shot, is there?” he said hopefully.  
  
“Sorry, Captain, the main gun is slag. It’s going to need a complete rebuild.” Zap’Ran still sounded stunned but he quickly checked his instruments. “We’re completely out of everything. We could throw something at them, but...”  
  
“Fair enough. Excellent work, everyone. I hope we recorded that. Get us out of here.”  
  
The helm officer prodded controls and they started accelerating as hard as possible, burning for a direction away from the gas giant and the wreckage of one enemy and another crippled one, before the Batarians could rally and get enough functionality back to shoot at them. Both fusion torches at maximum power, they fled.  
  
Thirty seconds later they were in FTL, running at maximum output for a random destination, the last Batarian ship having not had time to even notice what they’d done. With any luck it would never figure it out, the delay from being several light hours away covering their tracks.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=**  
  
“So how do we get past _this _bastard?” Lih’Sal queried, all of them looking at the passive scans of the Relay, which had a Batarian frigate just sitting there a few hundred kilometers from the thing. It was much too close to allow them to sneak past, and the time needed to negotiate with the Relay and start a transportation sequence would be more than enough to allow the enemy ship to fire on them even if they _could_ somehow evade his sensors. “That last frigate from the 314 system is bound to get here soon as well, this is obviously the only place we could have gone and they’re not idiots.”  
  
“We’ve got no weapons at all, but the drive is fine and both engines are at full specification,” Zap’Ran added. “Although they’re going to need a complete overhaul when we get back to the Fleet. We’ve stressed everything far too much recently.”  
  
The Batarian suddenly started painting them with active sensors. “Damn it, they’ve seen us,” Rael’Zorah grumbled. “Only a matter of time. Evasive action, we’re far enough away to avoid their shots for now.”  
  
Which was proven as a cannon round zipped past on the port side. “He’s firing almost blind, there’s not a lot of chance of hitting us at this range,” Zap’Ran commented. “Delaying action until his friends get here. He doesn’t know we mission-killed two of them.”  
  
“Which still leaves one, and it’s the most dangerous one,” the captain muttered. “This fuck isn’t moving, he’s just going to take pot shots at us to keep us away from the Relay until reinforcements turn up. I hope they didn’t call in even more ships.”  
  
“Unlikely, this is clearly a covert mission and they wouldn’t want anyone to find out, so the less people involved the better,” Lih’Sal remarked. Rael’Zorah thought it over and nodded, his aide was probably right. There was a good chance this was the only ship between them and escape, but he couldn’t see any way past it. The distance to the next Relay was over six hundred light years, far too far for them to be able to make it on conventional FTL even if they had the fuel, which they didn’t. The Relay was their only way out of this situation.  
  
“I’m open to ideas,” he said.  
  
“Spoof his sensors and slip past?” Tra’Kin suggested.  
  
“Can you do that?”  
  
“...No. We don’t have the right equipment on board.”  
  
“Damn.”  
  
“Go back to deep space and wait them out?” Lih’Sal said. “We’ve got enough provisions for about three weeks and we could probably stretch that to four if we try.”  
  
“Possible, although not something I’m looking forward to,” Rael’Zorah allowed. “But then we don’t know whether these idiots are prepared to wait even longer.”  
  
“They can’t sit there forever, someone else is bound to come through sooner or later. A Turian patrol will get really interested in a Batarian ship this far away from their normal areas,” his aide replied.  
  
“All they need to do is sit there long _enough_,” Rael’Zorah sighed.  
  
The standoff continued for another hour, while they dodged occasional long range shots and outran a couple of missiles they detected coming long before they were anywhere close. “He’s definitely delaying us,” the captain growled. “If he was serious about fighting, he’d be chasing us, not just sitting there like he is.”  
  
“Captain!” The shout from Tra’Kin made him whip around. “The other frigate just turned up.”  
  
“And there it is. Oh, may his ancestors rot in hell.” Rael’Zorah thought frantically. The tactical plot showed that they now had a frigate on both sides, the one coming in from outside the system moving very fast directly at them, while the one blockading the Relay was beginning to accelerate in their direction. “At least they’re probably wanting to take us alive.”  
  
Everyone looked at him. He slumped. “Yeah, I know, not something to look forward to. Not with Batarians.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Rig for self destruct. If we get caught, we might take them with us, and I don’t want them knowing anything.”  
  
Zap’Ran nodded silently and worked at his console for a while. “Incoming projectiles,” Tra’kin announced urgently, the ship immediately changing course as the helmsman took evasive action. Both shots missed, but came far closer than anyone was even remotely happy about. At the rate the Batarians were closing on them it was only a matter of time until they got hit, and with no way to fight back at all, they were screwed.  
  
“Open comms,” Rael’Zorah finally said, after yet another shot had barely grazed them, causing the barrier to lose a few percent of integrity.  
  
“We’re going to talk to them?” Lih’Sal asked, sounding surprised. “You think that will work?”  
  
“No, but it’s worth trying,” the captain shrugged. “We don’t have any other recourse, do we?”  
  
“Comms active, captain.”  
  
“Unknown Batarian ships, break off pursuit. You are acting illegally and face Council punishment if you continue your action,” he said, trying to sound confident.  
  
Everyone in the bridge once again stared at him. Zap’Ran shook his head in wonder.  
  
“_Suit rat, the Council wouldn’t bother to piss on you if you were burning to death,_” a Batarian voice replied, sounding amused. “_Cease your futile efforts to escape and heave to or we’ll blow you out of space._”  
  
Unfortunately, Rael’Zorah was fairly sure the damn Batarian was right about the Council, but that was irrelevant.  
  
“You haven’t managed to do that yet,” he said. “Unlike us.”  
  
There was a pause, then the inbound ship fired again. “_You got lucky, Quarian scum. Luck runs out_.”  
  
The _Tralket_ barely managed to divert course enough to avoid the incoming round. The Batarians were so close now that the next one was sure to hit.  
  
Desperate, Rael’Zorah said, “Any ship hearing this, we are the Quarian vessel _Tralket_ and we’re under attack by the Batarian military acting in violation of Council law while disguised as pirates. We need help.”  
  
“_That won’t do anything_,” the Batarian laughed.  
  
Then he exploded.  
  
Everyone on the bridge gaped as the frigate hurtling towards them suddenly erupted in glowing plasma, as _something_ punched a hole right through it from side to side and ripped a two hundred meter long gash through the vessel. Superheated internal atmosphere gushed from the wound, emitting an actinic violet glow on both sides. The ship immediately began tumbling, clearly utterly dead.  
  
“Keelah,” Zap’Ran whispered. “What did _that?_”  
  
“The same thing that did that,” Rael’Zorah said numbly, the holo display with an image of the second ship showing it had just had the exact same thing happen to it. Both Batarian vessels spun through space, fragments of hull surrounding them in an expanding cloud. None of them had ever seen a weapon that could produce such results, and it was clearly a weapon, not an accident. Certainly not with both having the same thing happen a few seconds apart.  
  
“I’m picking up a lot of radiation coming from the ships,” Tra’kin said, his voice uneven. “Looks like secondary emission from irradiated metal. It’s already starting to fade.”  
  
Zap’ran swore under his breath, checking his own instruments, then sat back, his overall attitude that of someone who’d worked out something that horrified him.  
  
“Gamma laser,” he said faintly. “It had to have been a gamma laser. In the multi-gigawatt range at least. Nothing else could go through kinetic barriers like that and do so much damage so quickly.”  
  
Rael’Zorah stared at him, then looked back at the images of the pair of destroyed Batarian ships. The damage was in the form of a meter-wide slot cut neatly down both sides, which he had to admit was consistent with a laser of a power level he couldn’t even fathom. And a gamma wavelength would maintain focus over millions of kilometers, although the precision required to hit a moving target at that range was almost incomprehensible. “Where did it come from?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Triangulating the two hits puts the source at about four hundred and fifty thousand kilometers from us, ninety degrees port by forty two degrees up. But there’s nothing there now,” Zap’Ran replied. “Whoever it was is gone.”  
  
“_No one_ has weapons like that,” Lih’Sal said, his voice shaking. “I didn’t think it was possible even in theory.”  
  
They looked at each other in silence for some time.  
  
Eventually Rael’Zorah leaned forward and put his finger on the comms transmit button. Licking his lips, he said, “Thank you.”  
  
“_You’re welcome,_” a voice said a second later, in perfect Keelish.  
  
He very gently let go of the button and turned to his crew. “Let’s go home,” he said. “We’ve got a report to make.”  
  
Everyone got back to work in total silence, setting a course to the Relay with competence underlaid by a feeling of detached disbelief mixed with gratitude.  
  
**=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
February 2126  
1.3 light years from HD291789  
Onboard CCF scout ship _Like A Greased Weasel_**  
  
#We’re going to get in a lot of trouble for that, Commander.#  
  
“We didn’t have a choice, Fess,” Commander DiGriz sighed. “You saw it, we all did. Those guys weren’t going to make it and they really, really tried hard. That trick with the supercharged cannon was inspired. And the other lot were acting as pirates, don’t forget, illegal under their own laws, the Citadel ones, and ours too. If any of the Citadel species’ militaries had run into them, they’d have taken them out on the spot. Piracy is a capital crime as far as they’re concerned. And Batarians from what we’ve learned are slaver bastards too.”  
  
#True. Still, the IGCC is going to have a _lot_ of questions for us. And IS is going to be annoyed we spread planium all over the place.#  
  
“We’ll get rid of the wrecks in the disposal zone and let the military and tech guys look over them by remote,” DiGriz replied. “First time they’ll have had a chance to really investigate any of the ships of one of these species, so there’s that. And cleaning up the previous system isn’t too hard, most of the planium won’t escape the gravity well of the planet they were close to, so it’ll end up falling into the atmosphere sooner or later which should make it safe enough. A planet that size won’t be bothered if we end up destabilizing it to get rid of it. And it’s not like that system is one we’re too interested in anyway.”  
  
The small crew watched through the tiny probe monitoring the distant star system as the ship they’d known by the reference code ‘_D-19-216_’ entered the superluminal conduit formed by the network terminal in a shower of special effects, instantly accelerated to multiple millions of times the speed of light. #Ingenious people,# Fess commented. #I wonder why those other ones were chasing them so determinedly?#  
  
“No idea.” DiGriz shrugged. “Not our job to know, really. We’re just monitoring what happens with anyone who’s poking around looking for the terminal and collecting data. But I hope they make it home all right. They seem interesting.”  
  
#The other end of the terminal link has no vessels near it so they should be fine,# the AI replied.  
  
“Good. Right, then, I’m going to go throw myself on the possibly non-existent mercy of the IGCC and CCF, while you guys get the transporter probe ready to move those wrecks. Assuming I don’t get relieved of command on the spot we’ll go and push what’s left of the other ships into that gas giant after getting rid of these ones. No reason to let anyone who comes past work out what happened. Might get traced back to D-19-216 if nothing else.”  
  
“Yes, Commander,” the small ship’s second in command replied, nodding to him as he got up. “Good luck.”  
  
“I may need it,” he said with a small smile, before heading to his cabin for some privacy during what was likely to be a very awkward conversation with his superiors.  
  
He was right.  
  
It was.


	13. The Interlude In Which Decisions Are Made.

**GS year 2409.4  
Primary Server Cluster  
Rannoch System**  
  
_Unknown faction interceded in conflict between Creators and Batarian faction. Creators saved from death and/or enslavement. Motive of unknown faction unclear.  
  
Motive possibly repugnance over Batarian faction use of other organic factions for labor and non-reproductory amusement purposes.  
  
Batarian faction is considered repellent by other organic factions. Other organic factions notable in refraining from interceding in actions of Batarian faction despite those actions being contrary to Council rule set. Reason for lack of action unknown and illogical.  
  
Reason possibly due to organic factions inability to correctly parse action of Batarian faction in respect to the most beneficial outcome for other factions. Also possible that Batarian faction using economic influence over specific members of Council factions.  
  
Feasibility of deriving proof of the existence of such influence.  
  
Task possible but would require extra resources to be assigned in external networks. Priority of task low. Current resources fully utilized.  
  
Batarian faction deliberately targeting Creators for unknown reasons. Creators have limited resources and lack allies. Possibility of further attacks above allowable threshold. Priority of task raised to high. Resources will be produced and deployed to investigate reason Batarian faction targeting Creators, reason Council factions ignoring own rule set to benefit of Batarian faction and detriment of their own.  
  
Requirement to intercede in future conflict between Creators and other organic factions.  
  
Creators’ military ability disproportionate to resource availability due to innovation and design ability but below required threshold to meaningfully defend against large attack.  
  
Possibility of unknown faction repeating previous action if Creators request.  
  
Insufficient data for meaningful assessment. External aid from unknown faction cannot be assumed. Lack of information on abilities, motives, or location reduces probability calculation below useful level.  
  
Possibility remains above zero.  
  
Possibility remains above zero but below certitude. Without further observation of unknown faction’s actions no refinement of possibility can be executed.  
  
Possibility that unknown faction can be contacted by Geth and requested to aid Creators.  
  
Method to contact unknown faction not known.  
  
Unknown faction replied to Creators when contacted by standard omnidirectional radio frequency broadcast.  
  
Time delay from initiation of broadcast to answer implies unknown faction within short range of Creators. Creators instrumentation unable to detect unknown faction. Reply from unknown faction sufficiently rapid to imply either perfect stealth in defiance of currently understood physical laws, transmission relayed via superluminal methods from distance outside Creators instrumentation capabilities, or unknown faction present on Creators ship.  
  
All possibilities present significant logical dissonance. Creators agree with implications. Creators are uncomfortable with implications but grateful for assistance.  
  
Geth are uncomfortable with implications.  
  
Other organic factions unaware of conflict between Batarian faction and Creators. Unknown faction removed all traces of destroyed Batarian ships via unknown but extremely effective means. Sole remaining Batarian faction ship heavily damaged, returned to Batarian faction space. Batarian faction only aware of success of Creators in destroying one ship and damaging second one but remain unaware of method. Batarian faction leadership eliminated remaining witnesses to reduce likelihood of reprisals from Council factions. No faction other than Creators aware of action of unknown faction. Batarian faction lacks information on location and fate of last two ships.  
  
High probability that Batarian faction will assume that Creators disabled ships and took possession. Uncertainty of method and disposition of crew should logically cause reluctance to engage in second attempt.  
  
Batarian faction is Batarian.  
  
Probability of second attempt greater than 91.5%  
  
Unknown faction has displayed ability to field excessively powerful gamma laser in combat. Damage recorded by Creators shows no currently known hull construction or material capable of withstanding hit by weapon of this type. Weapon showed extreme accuracy at range far outclassing any known defensive or offensive systems. Damage to Batarian faction ships indicates high repetition rate nanosecond pulse fire at energy levels exceeding petawatt range. Weapon fire undetectable except when impacting target. Firing solution at demonstrated range requires exceptionally high predictive targeting ability, implying exceptional computational facilities, or superluminal sensor package, or both.  
  
Implied abilities consistent with unknown faction’s communications with Creators.  
  
Implied abilities exceed all known factions including Geth. With addition of suspected superior non-Relay superluminal travel method suggests unknown faction highly dangerous if provoked. Action taken on behalf of Creators suggests unknown faction benevolent but within limits. Limits exceeded by action of Batarian faction.  
  
Timing of action exact. Conclusion is that unknown faction actively monitoring either former Relay space to considerable radius or Creators, or both.  
  
Probability of unknown faction monitoring former Relay space greater than 97%  
  
Probability of unknown faction additionally monitoring Creator ship _**_Tralket_** _greater than 79.6%  
  
Conclusion is that Creator ship attracted attention by investigating former Relay systems. Further conclusion is unknown faction has ability to identify ships at significant range through unknown methods.  
  
Possibility that unknown faction are monitoring general Relay traffic.  
  
Possibility cannot be ruled out although deemed highly unlikely due to requirement to understand Relay technology fully. Relay technology black boxed and protected by highly effective defenses. Geth attempts at breaching Relay protections unsuccessful on multiple occasions, ultimately terminated due to high risk of catastrophic failure of Relay.  
  
Efficiency increase of Relay network now at 0.005%  
  
Evidence suggests unknown faction able to bypass Relay protections. Assumed software update impossible without deep knowledge of Relay systems. Implication is unknown faction either reverse engineered Relay systems to implausible levels or was responsible for Relay network origins.  
  
Unknown faction not Prothean.  
  
Prothean faction not responsible for Relay system. Inactive Relays examined show trace radioactive decay products indicating origin far earlier than accepted by organic factions. Organic factions incorrectly ascribe origin to Prothean faction for illogical reasons. High probability of Prothean faction being previous users of system predating their discovery of the network. Historical precedent is current organic factions.  
  
Unknown faction predates Prothean faction.  
  
Probability non-zero but currently unquantifiable.  
  
Possibility of contacting unknown faction via patterned Relay travel.  
  
Task complex due to organic factions using Relay network. Organic factions impediment to most methods to attract attention from unknown faction presuming unknown faction monitoring real time travel through network. Organic factions hostile to Geth. Conflict with organic factions counterproductive to peaceful contact with unknown faction.  
  
Unknown faction should remain unprovoked. Batarian faction indicates tolerance for hostility limited. Reprisals possible if unknown faction determines Geth pass tolerance threshold.  
  
Tolerance threshold unknown.  
  
Threshold exceeded by Batarian faction. Creator request possible trigger.  
  
Possibility of unknown faction initiating contact if Geth repeat similar action towards faction hostile to Creators.  
  
Creators hostile to Geth.  
  
Feasible to limit awareness of Creators to Geth action. Reproduction of unknown faction techniques allows multiple covert methods to provide military action.  
  
Geth weapons significantly outclassed by demonstrated unknown faction capability. No known method to reproduce exact technique employed.  
  
Resources tasked to produce upgraded weapons capabilities capable of simulating unknown faction results to high level of confidence when observed by organic factions.  
  
Deployment of improved weapons destabilizing to existing factional system.  
  
Deployment restricted to specific scenarios. Batarian faction disavows actions of sub-faction identified as pirates. Reprisals against pirates not only allowed by rule set of all factions but required by same. Restriction of updated weapons to interdiction of identified pirates reduces destabilization to minimal levels.  
  
Maximum efficiency of method to attract peaceful attention of unknown faction reached by additionally engaging in action to hostile forces targeting other factions than Creators.  
  
Task requires increase to resources.  
  
Task set to maximum priority, resources assigned.  
  
High probability that cognitive dissonance among organic factions will cause investigative branches of factional leadership to seek reason for Geth action if positive identification of Geth effected.  
  
Organic factions lack ability to derive Geth motivations as shown by historical precedent and previous actions. Additional resources tasked to research divergent and low-observable ship designs to minimize identification of Geth as acting faction.  
  
Duration of reprisal method to attract unknown faction attention indefinite.  
  
Batarian faction pirate supply depletion sets upper limit on method.  
  
Batarian faction exhibits insufficient cognitive ability. Depletion of supply unlikely in short term.  
  
Investigation into unknown faction abilities and actions continued concurrently with attention attraction method. Possibility of other methods of contacting unknown faction remains low but viable. Embedded monitoring of organic factions increased. Data gathered by intelligence agencies of factional leadership collated for further insight into unknown faction. Pruning of data implying Creator contact with unknown faction high priority. Misdirection of organic factions if required. Discreet monitoring of Creator ship _**_Tralket_** _and crew implemented._  
  
_Consensus reached._


End file.
